


'Tis the Damn Season

by audreyslove



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Ex Sex, Exes, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Post-Break Up, Second Chances, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:00:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 59,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28282059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreyslove/pseuds/audreyslove
Summary: Written for the incredible Outlaw Queen Calendar.Robin and Regina are exes who are still in love despite having their own partners.Some well-timed rain prompts a confession that changes everything.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Robin Hood
Comments: 154
Kudos: 107





	1. Chapter 1

“I’m going to get another _adult_ beverage. Do you want one?”

Robin stands from his lounge chair, his toes digging into the sand as he combs a hand through his half dried hair, the sea salt makes it look thicker, more beautiful somehow. He smiles and winks at her that way that still shouldn’t make her heart flutter.

“Yes, please,” she smiles back, waiting for that little rush of feeling to pass as it always does.

That guilt has long since dulled, the one that reminds her that her own husband is the one who should make her heart skip a beat, the frustration she used to feel that her body wouldn’t listen to logic and _let Robin the fuck go_ is gone too.

Now she just welcomes it and waits it out. It’s her life now. 

Regina is glad they remained friends. God, at first it didn’t seem like they could ever. There was so much hurt and anger there. The emotion she felt for him was so much, too much, and that passion boiled over into everything she did with him, and god, did that involve fighting and hurting and mourning and _so many_ horrible feelings that almost made the good ones not worth it.

Almost, not quite.

Those burning emotionally tortuous and wonderful are gone now, at least, she tries to chase them away, out of her thoughts, out of her memories.

But try as she might, she still remembers the way he looked at her after they broke up, when she had been out on a date with Graham.

She didn’t mean to run into Robin, it was a bar neither of them had ever frequented, and yet, isn’t fate funny?

She had just wanted a fling, just something fun to dull the pain, and Graham had occupied her mind that night, had given her a reason to smile.

And then she spotted Robin and something dark and ugly rose up inside her, and she’s still embarrassed of what she did, still can’t believe he hasn’t shunned her forever for it.

She hammed it up, got touchy-feely and flirted with Graham, laughed at all his unfunny jokes just to get at Robin, because a part of her wanted him to see her and hurt just as badly as she had been hurting since they broke up.

It had worked, too well.

Robin looked like he wanted to kill, his hands were fisted at his sides, she could tell the wrong move would make him pounce, and for some reason that only made her want to push him harder.

That night was so awful, she hurt him so terribly and then didn’t see or hear from him for weeks and _god_ how that hurt worse. 

He was like a drug she was detoxing from.

That wasn’t healthy, that sort of love, that sort of passion they had for each other. It was dangerous. 

But weeks later, thank the lord, she ran into him at a coffee shop.

And Regina still doesn’t know what type of courage had overtaken her, but she begged for his attention, for his time, and asked, please, if they could just talk some time.

They had a long, drawn out, emotional conversation later that week with far too many tears on both their parts, and ultimately, they decided they were too toxic as a couple, and yet too perfect for one another to not be friends.

She remembers the sobbing, sweaty feeling, the tears, hot on her burning cheek, the way Robin had looked just as miserable as she felt, as she admitted she loved him but didn’t think she could be with him, she couldn’t go through pain like this again. And then they both admitted that they both didn’t think they could live without the other in their lives, Robin swearing he would love her until his dying breath but could not be with her, because it would destroy them both.

And so it was decided. Friendship, yes, relationship, no.

As for Graham, he was supposed to be a rebound, but here they are, years later. He hasn’t married her yet, but that’s coming. Of course, Robin is married to Marian.

So much for Robin loving Regina forever, huh.

God, Marian. Thank god that acute pain at seeing them together has now become a dull throb. Even though she had been with Graham for well over a year, she cried over Robin and Marian for more nights than she cares to remember. 

But sometimes, even now, Robin will lean down to kiss Marian in the gentlest and most random of ways, and Regina feels as if something delicate yet essential has shattered inside her, millions of shards splintering and digging painfully inside of her until she is just bleeding out everywhere.

Now Robin is filling a plastic cup up with rum he’s snuck onto the beach in a sunscreen lotion bottle, reaching into his cooler for a soda, not forgetting to make a bootleg cocktail for his wife, either.

Marian used to be threatened by their relationship, of how close Robin and Regina are. Regina only knows this because after a few dates out as couples, Robin excitedly told her that Marian liked her and no longer worried about the two of them.

And that hurt, sometimes even more, still hurts. Marian is so trusting because she is so sure Robin would never lower himself and to the misery of being with Regina again.

Or maybe because Marian knows their love is strong (it is, she’s seen it, god it is) that Regina would never have a chance.

Graham… well, he’s never been bothered by Robin, has never really loved the guy, but has no problems when they go out alone together, when they have their lunch together or go out for drinks. Graham is probably grateful Regina doesn’t bother him with annoying things like her thoughts and feelings, that she has someone else to talk to with all that. 

So they have this odd situation. “Platonic soulmates”, that’s what Emma had called it mockingly, all those years ago.

Mary Margaret had called them kindred spirits.

Either way, Regina will take it.

“Here,” Robin says, handing her the drink. “I made it sort of strong, but you seem like you’d enjoy it about now.”

“Bless you,” Regina murmurs. She _does_ need a drink. She and Graham have been disagreeing lately and she can feel the tension. Robin must too.

He glances over at Marian who is reading her book, and Graham who is on the phone gabbing about something with one of his friends.

And then he sidles up, pulls his beach chair next to her lounge chair, real close.

“I think we’re on kid duty,” he whispers to her.

She chuckles. They always seem to be the ones looking after and caring for the kids on these outings. Which works just fine since they both enjoy it more.

“Look at them,” he says softly.

Regina adopted Henry when the boy was already five. He’s almost ten now. Little Roland is four, yet Henry plays with him with a patience he gives to no one else. They are building some sort of castle in the sand not too far away from them, giving poor Robin a break from the ocean water.

He will have to go back in soon — they both know their boys get restless and love the water.

“I heard Roland called Henry his brother,” Regina murmurs, her eyes not on Robin but the children.

“Yeah,” Robin laughs. “They were doing a little activity in daycare on siblings. I guess Roland decided he had a brother after all.”

Regina smiles and shakes her head. “I like that.”

“Me too. Takes away the pressure to make a little brother for him, at least. He used to want one.”

“Do you and Marian?” Regina asks just over a whisper.

Robin bites his lip, glancing up at Marian. “That’s um, delicate.”

Regina raises an eyebrow, and he cringes and nods in Marian’s direction.

“She doesn’t want—?” Regina starts, and Robin shakes his head vigorously. 

So it’s not Marian.

“ _You_ don’t want to have another?”

He shrugs and whispers, “It’s a long story.” 

Regina nods. Robin always wanted more children, so it struck her as odd initially. But she understands. She loves her son so much, yet she wouldn’t want another. One is enough. And another, if she had that… it would be with Graham as a coparent. And that would complicate things.

“Mom, can we go back in the water?” Henry asks.

“Yeah, we want to swim!” Roland adds.

Robin gives her this mischievous look and shrugs. “You know, Henry, your mum was just saying she wanted to go for a swim.”

“I did not,” she says sternly, glaring and Robin.

“I think she said she wanted to go for a swim and a little shake and bake.”

Regina raises an eyebrow. She definitely won’t be doing a shake and bake, where a poor victim is tackled on the beach still wet from the ocean, covered in sand and forced to go back in to clean up.

No, that’s not happening.

“I will end you,” Regina seethes. “No swimming. And _no_ shake and bake.”

Robin doesn’t answer, just looks at Henry, who nods.

“No,” Regina protests, standing up to defend herself. 

She spots Graham out of the corner of her eye, sees him laugh and watch, not attempting to stop this abuse, it seems.

Marian bookmarks her novel and looks up, but doesn’t make another move.

“Get her!” Roland screams, and then it’s on.

Robin chases her around the beach as she screams and pretends she doesn’t want him to catch her, doesn’t want him to wrap strong, warm arms around her and hold her. She gives it a go, runs from him and kicks up sand as she does, but Robin is faster, and it doesn’t even look like she gives up as he cuts a corner between two beach towels and grabs her, scooping her in his arms. She laughs, half heartedly squirms as the boys cheer and walk her down to the ocean.

Robin, the dick that he is, carries her in until the ocean is waist deep, then tosses her into the icy depths with a laugh.

Regina goes under right before a wave hits and she’s a mess when she gets to the surface again, spitting out salt water and combing her already tangled hair out of her face.

Robin is standing there laughing and looking far too amused.

“Jerk!” she laughs playfully. “And stupid! I’m a better swimmer than you, now you’re in trouble.”

Regina is eventually able to get Robin dunked fully under, though he attempts to use little Roland as a shield.

“No shake and bake,” Regina warns.

Robin shrugs. “We’ll see.”

The kids want to play, and Roland needs their attention because the water is rough. Taking care of the kids and making sure they are having fun takes precedent. And between tossing Henry into the water and jumping into waves, Regina feels that sense of pure elation that makes life worth living.

She glances up to make sure Graham is okay (that sense of guilt in how much fun she’s having without him washes over her for just a moment).

But Graham doesn’t care. He’s not even looking at them. He still has his narrow sunglasses on, his body turned toward the sun, ear glued to his phone.

And Marian, well, she’s glued to her book.

Regina always thinks she’s doing something wrong, but he simply doesn’t see her that way and all this feeling is all one sided.

She focuses on their children and puts her feelings away for the rest of the day. It almost works.

.::.

“Fuck, I felt a rain drop,” Graham grumbles as they start to take the beach equipment to the car. “Better hurry up.”

“Are we still getting pizza?” Henry asks.

“A promise is a promise,” Graham tells him, and Henry cheers in excitement.

The SUV is all loaded, Roland insists on riding with Henry to the pizzeria which is cute (they have a car seat for just an occasion!) and then Graham curses.

“Regina, we forgot to buy those passes for the waterpark for next weekend. And you know they sell out.”

“I can get them,” Robin offers. “You guys head to the pizzeria, it will only be a moment. Order for us.”

“I want Momma!” Roland argues, looking at his mother, “She knows how I like my pizza.”

“So do you,” Robin reminds, but Roland shakes his head and insists his mother knows best.

“Let’s swap. I’ll take Marian, you take Regina,” Graham shrugs. “Bud, they will be back before we know it.”

Regina nods, waves at the boys, and rushes to Robin’s car to beat the rain.

And right before Regina’s out of earshot she hears Marian groans and say to Graham, “God, I’m going to miss this place when we move,” and Regina’s heart catches in her throat.

She catches Robin’s eye, the coward. He looks down, bites his lip and gets into the car.

Well, fuck.

.::.

“So…” Robin starts, as if he wants her to bring up what she just overheard, but Regina is seething, so angry. The angrier she gets, the less fearful she can be, at least. 

The rain is thick now, the road is swamped with water, the rhythmic sound of windshield wipers and pelting of swollen raindrops the only sound in the car.

“I was going to tell you,” he sighs.

“When?” she snaps, playing with her hands. “We were just talking about how the boys act like brothers. You were blindsiding me.”

“I wasn’t,” Robin says in earnest, “I just… I wanted to hold on to this as long as I could. And telling you…” he drifts off. “It would make it real.”

“You don’t want to leave,” Regina accuses — and yes, it’s an accusation. Because he’s being such a coward and how dare he leave her with no notice like that? Doesn’t he know what he means to her?

“I truly don’t want to, in many ways,” Robin admits with a sigh.

“And in others?” Regina asks.

Robin doesn’t answer, doesn’t look at her, just drives into the waterpark’s pier parking lot and parks. He doesn’t turn the car off, though. It just idles, those windshield wipers as steady as always.

“In other ways, I… I can’t keep this up,” he says softly.

There’s a lump in Regina’s throat now, and she can’t swallow it down. He’s looking at her like _that._ Oh god, is he going to —

“When I met Marian…” he starts, and Reginas bites her lip to keep words of protest out. “I love her. I do. I was a broken hearted mess, and she helped me out of it. She didn’t know I was getting over you. But I was, that’s why you couldn't help. The only thing in this world you can’t help me with. How to get over you.”

“Glad she helped,” Regina mutters, opting to turn away and look out the window at the torrential downpour.

“She tried,” Robin nods. “But Regina, I know this with all my heart. I can never love her the way I love you.”

Regina can’t say a word, if she speaks she will collapse into tears. But she’s still angry, white hot furious, the coward. For how long, and why, and how, and all this wasted time… 

And now it’s too late. 

“It’s not the right timing,” Robin laughs sadly, “and it’s certainly not how I wanted to tell you, but I can’t keep it in anymore. I love you. So so much, I told you I wouldn’t stop, and I haven’t, Regina, I’ve only grown to love you more each day. And I just… I need you to know. You don’t have to say anything, I know it’s… I know you don’t feel the same.”

Robin is looking at her with pure love in his eyes and the desire to kiss him and beg him to stay, to fuck it all and split their families, it’s so strong, too strong. Thank god he doesn’t know she feels the same, because if he made the slightest move, she’d melt into his arms on the spot, do any and every damn thing that was requested of her, beg him to do things that would send them both down a path they could never come back from.

And on that note, she better leave while she still can. Regina fiddles with the door until she finds its handle, her hands shaking as she tries to get it to work, because god, she needs air.

“I’ll get the tickets,” she mumbles, grabbing a stray newspaper to shield her from the rain as she runs to the ticket booth.

.::.

She’s shaking as she makes her way to the ticket booth and requests the cabana and six tickets for tomorrow. They only had one left, he tells her.

Tomorrow she’s going to be in a little hut with Robin and his wife and a Graham surrounded by children and a lazy river, trying to act like her world isn’t falling apart. Fuck, she loves him.

And did he, all this time?

It wasn’t a waste, though, was it? God, it’s been wonderful as his friend, but she’s wanted more for years. How could she not? It hurt terribly, fighting with him and almost losing him and feeling like her world would implode if he did. But the wanting has been just as painful, and now she’s losing him anyway.

Sweet, wonderful Robin who held her hand through all her doubts on being a foster mother, who encouraged and told her Henry was meant to be hers. The one who held her as she cried over her mother’s cruelty, the one who wrote her love notes she’d read over and over — still, to this day, the one who will drop everything to comfort her. The one she secretly still pines for, lusts over, and she tries not to but acutely remembers the way it feels to kiss him, to have his weight on top of her as he takes her, god, _that_ Robin, she loves him so much.

She runs back to the car, the rain drenching her as she gets off the boardwalk onto the parking lot.

Robin is out of the car, a little bag from the saltwater taffy shop in his hand (sweets for the kids, bless that man).

He’s walking towards the passenger seat from the other direction, and she assumes he’s going to drop the package off before getting in the driver’s seat, but god, he’s too close, it’s raining, she wants him so much, she can’t even look at him.

Regina would have made it. She would have — knows she would have got in that car, sat in the passenger seat and _avoided temptation._

But as she edges past Robin, he touches her shoulder, spins her to face him, and then she loses any semblance of willpower as he moves closer to her, his head tilting just so, his arms around her...

She drops the newspaper she had tried to use as an umbrella to crash her lips to his before Robin has a chance to do it himself. All she needed was a faint hint of a move, and she’s all in, all into kissing her best friend, her greatest love, Graham be damned. Fuck it, let it all wash down her, all she wants to do is wrap her arms around Robin and forget everything else.

And she does, tightly around his neck, as he kisses her, the rain is so loud and strong, she’s soaked and doesn’t care as he presses her against the car, lifts her in his arms and kisses some more, and she’s gasping as his lips move to her neck, to her chest, hot open mouth kisses along her collarbone that set her on fire despite the storm.

The rain has completely soaked her clothes, her hair is sopping wet and everyone will wonder what happened, but Regina doesn’t want this moment to end. She knows it will, eventually, it has to, but for now, all she wants is to pretend, just for a moment, to share the passion and the love they’ve both been holding onto for so long.

It’s been so many years and she’s been so good and resisted for so long, and perhaps she will burn for this, but for now all she can do is swallow his moans as he does the same for her, letting the rain and the emotion swamp them, years of feelings pouring out and down and all around them.


	2. Chapter 2

She could kiss him until they drown in the rain for all she cares.

But as warm as the day has been, it’s dark now, the sky is emptying on them, and she can’t help but shiver (not entirely related to the cold but not completely unrelated either).

Robin just grips at her tighter, holds her tighter in his arms as he presses her against his SUV, and god she’s glad he didn’t stop out of concern for her comfort or worry for her health, because then it would be over, this kissing, this moment, it would all melt away, wash down the drain, and the reality of her mundane life with a man she doesn’t love, a life spent pining over the married man who is also her best friend and also about to leave her would become a reality and she can’t handle that now.

His shirt is completely soaked, her coverup dress is, too, and well, it’s fitting she’s still in a bikini underneath because it’s as if she’s absolutely jumped into the ocean in this weather.

He is combing fingers through her hair like she loves, her hair is soaked and it reminds her of when they would take showers together, long ago when he’d insist on “saving water” and then he’d seduce her, taking a dollop of her shampoo and massaging it into her scalp, fingertips scratching her scalp in this delightful way that never failed to turn her into puddle, god she misses him.

It’s been years and she can still remember how it feels to be with him, be held by him as he is inside her, how he’d start with her when he was feeling in the mood and wanted to win her over into the same, the feel of his mouth and his fingers, the magical way he’d touch her in innocent places and awake the most debaucherous thoughts, god…

She wraps her legs right around him and her core is lined up with where he is very very hard for her, and fuck, she wants that, but what else is new? When it comes to Robin she is always wanting what she can’t have…

Robin takes his mouth off her lips to kiss a path down her neck, he readjusts his hold on her so his hand is holding on to her side, thumb just a whisper away from the pebbled stiffened peaks of her breasts, and it’s cold but she feels as if there is fire in her blood, and as his mouth touches those more sensitive spots he knows too well, it’s all too much and she shivers in his arms, a combination of arousal and the temperature. She hears his little moan, then he kisses and licks between her breasts (god, fuck it, they are in public but it’s a downpour, he should just take her drenched clothes off and touch her where she wants).

But Robin stops, the bastard, and murmurs, “You're freezing, darling.

“I’m — mm!” he must think otherwise of stopping because he dives in to kiss that spot on her neck only he could really find, and her legs tighten around him. “I’m fine, please, please I don’t want this to end.”

He draws back enough to look her in the eyes, smiling at her before he lifts her from the car she’s pinned against and spins her on the side, depositing her on the ground and leaving her confused until he opens the back car door, and raises an eyebrow.

She shivers again, and god, they shouldn’t, absolutely shouldn’t, but she wants him more than air, and he’s going to leave her and she’s never going to do this again so she better get it out of her system now. She takes a breath and starts to get in intent on stretching out and lying across the seats so they can have a good horizontal fuck before she never gets to feel herself, feel alive again.

But she freezes in the entrance of the car door, feeling the forced air flow (he’s turned the car on remotely, the air is neither cold nor hot but the circulated air will help it from getting too stuffy, she supposes). Her eyes locked on one item that should change everything, sober her up and having her end this for all.

Roland’s car seat is behind the driver’s seat, right there, like a flashing red light telling her to _Stop,_ calling her a _home wrecker_ and _whore._

But then Robin is behind her, sees what she’s looking at, and seems entirely unfazed.

“Here, let me...” he says, hitting a button or a hinge or something, and suddenly the passenger and middle back falls back until it’s parallel to the floor, without the seat buckles and belts it could almost be comfortable. He leans forward and rearranges some of the bags in the back, lines them up against the driver’s side window, then takes that damn beach blanket and lays it across the flat surface of the folded back seat.

It’s so wrong, absolutely terrible, but he looks at her as she shivers in the rain. He just looks at her, waiting for an answer to an unspoken question, until she nods and he smiles, motioning for her to come in.

She does, grabbing him by his soaked shirt and pulling him in with her, urging her on top of him as she lies back. It’s warm on the car, thank god, and his body is comforting and solid on top of her, they kiss and grind and rock together, soaking, dripping clothes, tongues and teeth and lips and fingernails. It is somehow soothing to feel him on top of her, and she’s never going to get this again so she better make it count so she grabs him and pushes him closer, gasps and groans, grabs his ass with a tight squeeze (has wanted to do that for years, and it might not be as satisfying through the wet stiff material of his swim trunks but god, is it liberating to just do what she wants).

“God, Regina, I want you. I’ve wanted this for so long,” he groans, and she can feel it, he’s so hard for her, and there are a hundred reasons this shouldn’t happen but she gives fuck all about them as she pulls the soaked cotton of his shirt up in response.

“Take this off,” she rasps, frustrated that the sticky dripping mess of a top clings to him and keeps her from feeling him the way she should.

“Mm, please take that off, too,” he asks, hooking a finger over the strap of her coverup — he’s right, it’s soaked and unnecessary and frankly uncomfortable. But it’s an easy fix, she pulls it down and wiggles it off until it lands on the car floor with a wet plop.

She’s in a bikini and he in his own swim shorts and they’ve been incredibly close wearing this little so many times before. In fact, she has spent way too long imagining stripping him while they’ve been wearing this little together, and that’s probably why she finds him irresistible right now.

Now she can run her hands up his chest and cop a feel unashamed instead of trying so hard to not let her hands linger.

She can touch him everywhere actually, he is granting her free reign to, she thinks, as his tongue is currently down her throat while his hips are thrusting into her, one arm under her neck and the other anchored at her hip, squeezing, the relaxing, fingers racing over the waist of her bikini, god a finger just dips underneath for a second and it reminds her of what is to come, and fuck, that’s it, she’s going to give as good as she gets.

She pushes his trunks down, it’s tight and they are wet, so it’s not easy, but he groans, braces himself on the hand behind her and uses her other hand to untie the drawstring in the front.

Her breath catches her in the throat at the realization this is actually _happening._ She pushes his shorts down and this time they slide off without much work, his ass bare, tan lines visible and oddly sexy and risqué, the reminder she’s seeing parts of him usually covered.

And one particular part is pressed against her core, and fuck, fuck, it would be so easy to let this happen, she wants this so badly...

The kissing is furious and _good,_ they are moaning, gasping, panting, she can heat and feel his ragged breath between each press of the lips and twirl of his tongue.

He breaks away and moves back just enough to be able to look her in the eyes, she can feel him tense, watch his adam’s apple bob, god he’s _nervous._ It’s a relief because she may die from the anxious energy coursing through her veins.

“Love…” he says above a whisper, and then, “I am… I want you so badly, is this okay? Am I too much?”

She could either laugh or cry or both, but she bites her lip and shakes her head.

“You’re never too much,” she answers, and then he’s kissing down her neck to her chest, fingers exploring just under her swim suit, over the tops of her breasts. The skin is damp, cool, and ungodly sensitive, goosebumps flare at his simple touch, and it’s all too wonderful, having him like this in this bubble that seems so far removed from reality.

He unties her top and peels it off, and warm hands replace the cool damp fabric.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he groans as he cups her breasts, fingers dancing over the pebbles hardness of her nipples and fuck, he always was good with his hands didn’t he? “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, my love, my Regina…”

“Robin!” she gasps his name, and how many times as she thought about being able to shout it like this.

He murmurs something, but he’s on her breasts now, both his hand and mouth, and she’s too far gone to process the words.

He’s teeth and tongue, kissing and sucking her breast as he squeezes and twists the other in a way that has her back arching, and her mouth running, spewing something about how good it feels, how she loves it with him, how she wants more.

“Oh fuck Robin — _yesss_! Please, god, I want you inside me,” she rasps as he gives her breast a nip and follows it with a soothing suck.

And when he readjusts and shifts she thinks he’s going to do exactly that, but then his head falls down and he kisses her left rib, and then her right.

And then another kiss in the middle, and fuck, they really don’t have time for _this,_ they don’t have time for him to use his tongue on her (he’s going to— that’s where this is going and fuck she really wants him to) let alone this sweet moment kissing down her body that she knows she will replay in her mind until her last breath.

“Robin!” her voice is a warning, “Please, there’s not much time, just—“

“Did you really think I was just going to skip this?” he asks, his voice all raspy and feral, “That I’m going to have you naked in my arms again and I’m not going to taste you?”

She doesn’t have a response, she’s caught between saying, _well, hurry up then_ and _no, fuck me, they are waiting for us, we have to be quick_ when he makes her forget words all together and slides off the little folded down chair they are lying on and crouches between her legs.

He doesn’t waste a minute, as soon as he’s in the right position he parts her legs and just goes between them.

She’s already worked up, which is good because he looks _hungry,_ he strokes her inner thigh with his fingertips as his other strokes her sex, exposes that sensitive bundle of nerves that is all but throbbing now, and he groans, murmurs something like _Beautiful_ (he’s ridiculous) and _You’re so wet_ and then his mouth is on her.

He always liked more foreplay than this, but truth be told she doesn’t need it and isn’t even in the mood for it and he must not be either, she thinks, because there’s no teasing. He draws his tongue up through her sex and to her clit, and then he just goes for it.

He starts with those little tapping touches with his tongue, and god, she remembers this so well.

“Yesss!” she moans, at the feel of it because it really is amazing, and because all of this is coming back to her, how it feels to be brought to that peak on Robin’s mouth.

He adds this pressure to each lick, adds a swirl to the end, and by then she’s a panting mess, gripping at his hair hard enough to pull it out from the roots.

“Robin, god it’s good, it’s so good, you’re… mm, fuck I’ve missed your mouth, please, please, god…”

She can hear him murmur something but he’s apparently too caught up in what he’s doing to stop eating at her, so it just sounds like a muffled groan, and that only makes her soar closer to the edge.

And when he adds two fingers inside her, eating her fervently but hand-fucking her _slow_ and _deliberate,_ she reaches that point where she knows she will topple over the edge and gets greedy chasing the feeling, squirming and writhing under him, wrapping her legs around his head tightly, pushing his head into her as he sucks, licks. Then he uses his free hand to push this thumb right above her clit, so she can grind into him while he’s eating at her and god how she had loved that when they were together and fuck no one has ever been able to come close to how he does it.

She thrusts her hips into him, rocking as the pressure builds, and she can feel it welling up inside her, all that pleasure and longing. When he sucks on her clit and makes this _mmm_ sound, the vibrations hit her just right and she comes hard, thrashing underneath him and holding his head to anchor herself as she feels herself come undone, busting and blooming with the sweet pleasure of it all.

He helps her ride it out, his fingers are still inside her as she clenches around them (she loves that, feeling them solid and thick inside her as she comes).

When the feeling starts to fade, she finds she’s not entirely to let it fizzle entirely. She wants him again, and she doesn’t need a moment to recovery (which is good because they don’t have one).

“Robin, I want you,” she rasps, and her voice is hoarse and throat feels raw, fuck, she’s been shouting, she can only imagine what she sounds like.

He doesn’t answer right away, his mouth is still busy, his hands too, so she sits up (god, a bad idea, his fingers are hitting at a different angle now, and it’s actually good, but no, no, she wants him now, all of him.)

“Robin please,” she grips his head back and away from between her thighs (and who on Earth would have guessed she’d ever have the strength of mind to do that? Few women could, less woman that know what more pleasures his mouth is capable of giving). He looks up at her, panting, red faced, almost angry, like she took away his favorite treat from him.

She grips at his arm, pulling him up, and as soon as she’s within reach of his swim trunks she pulls them down.

“Fuck me like you’ve wanted to,” she whispers, and he groans, nods, and shifts himself over her.

Robin kisses her hungrily and she takes it in eagerly. The feeling of being in his arms, of being able to feel his lips and tongue on hers. His face is all damp and sweaty from eating at her, he tastes like her, he’s still not entirely caught his breath, so he keeps breaking out of the kiss to gasp for air before returning to her mouth.

But he’s still not inside her, and she wants it bad, so she grips his ass and whispers, “Fuck me like _I’ve_ wanted you to.”

He curses softly, gives her a quick tongue filled peck, and then asks, “You’ve wanted this?”

It should be so obvious at this point, he has to know, but she bends her knee, draws her leg up and wraps an arm around his neck. “I’ve wanted this for years, Robin, thought about it so often… how you’d feel inside me, I— _mm_.”

He thrusts into her before she can finish whatever the fuck she was saying, and good, she has waited long enough.

He’s _thick,_ and he knows her body, still, knows the way she likes it, knows how to take her bended knee and hook it over her shoulder, and god, the sound he makes as he thrusts into her, the soft curse and breathless grunt, the way he sounds like absolute sex when he gasps breathlessly, “God you feel so damn good.”

It’s good, so good, but she’s in a mood right now, so she grips at his ass, pushes him down against her and answers, “So do you, oh fuck, Robin fuck me deeper, harder— mm!”

He does both, adjusts the angle so he is far inside, and yes, that’s it, “Mm— like that! God!”

“Is this what you’ve wanted?” he pants, “Just like this?”

She can’t tell him the sheer number of times she has wanted this and the absolutely endless ways she’s thought of being fucked and fucking him, but of course, this was one of them.

“Yes, like this,”

“Thought about being with you so many times,” Robin grunts, kissing her, “so many times, can’t believe this is happening.”

“Me too — _mm!”_ He’s thrusting into her deep, every thrust grinds against her sensitive clit, and fuck she’s going to come again, thank god.

“God, I love you, Regina,” he groans on a particularly sinfully delicious thrust of his hips.

Her heart soars despite having no right to these feelings. And it can get dangerous fast, so she kisses his mouth to keep more of that sentiment from leaking out of him, because she’s not sure she can resist adding some words of her own, and she can’t think about that right now, it’s all too wonderful and too depressing at the same time.

“Just like it used to be,” she breathes, and she’s going to memorize the way it feels to be fucked by him, that is for certain, this moment will get her through every rough, boring, and miserable moment in her romantic life from now on.

“Fuck I’ve missed you,” Robin groans into her neck as he kisses her, and she has a fleeting fear he might mark her, but Robin, he knows better, despite the words he’s saying this is still just a dirty little secret they will share and take to their graves.

And as it’s only happening this last time, she might want to get as much in as possible. So she taps him on the back, nibbles at the lobe of his ear before licking and whispering in it, “I want to be on top.”

“Please.”

He lets her roll him over until she’s straddling and on top of him.

That maneuver makes it so they are no longer joined, but he’s hard, pressing against her core and she is ready to fuck him into the ground until she’s truly able to look at him, truly appreciate his muscular frame, the chiseled jaw and deep blue eyes, admiring each part, separately and together.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispers, letting the back of her hand glide over his perfect face.

There’s far too much affection in her tone, not enough heat or passion, he picks right up on it, matching it, saying, “No, love, you are.”

She smiles and shakes the complement off with a slight roll of her eyes.

And then she reaches between the and grabs his cock (fuck he’s hard and ready for her, god he looks good) and guides it into her.

They both moan in relief at the feel of being joined again, her at the way he fills her up, how he soothes her ache and yet has her desperate for more.

Regina takes him in and out slowly, watches his eyes shut tight, his hands grip at her sides, the desperate wanton sounds he makes as she slides him in and out of her.

“Fuck, Regina, what you do to me…” he rasps.

She’s too attracted, it’s been too long, and she wants him too much. She gets greedy with it, rolls her hips until she finds the right position and then starts fucking him fast.

The car is shaking as he pumps in and out, each pass hitting that spot inside her so perfectly.

“Fuck, Robin, oh god—!”

He gasps at her words, echoes, “Yess, god you feel good, please fuck me hard, fast, like you want, love, I’ll try to last for you… I want you so much.”

The feeling wells up inside her again, it’s only a few moments until she’s is an absolute incoherent mess, shouting about how much she has wanted him, and for so long, how he’s perfect inside her, how he feels like she’s remembered, how she _needs_ it, she needs to come.

Her words drive them both closer, dangerously so, but it’s his words that really drive her over the edge, when he tells her in a raspy pant, “God you are perfect, feels so good, god just the thought of you makes me come so hard, come for me, love, I need to feel you come on my cock, it’s so bloody lovely, let me feel it again, love, please…”

She lets loose a string of curses as she reaches that peak, can’t help it because god it feels so _good,_ she shuts her eyes tight and hears him encourage her ( _Yess love, that’s it, darling, come for me)_ and when his fingers rub against her clit she can’t help but shout his name, murmuring a few panted _thank yous_ as she crashes over that edge.

There’s a moment of dizzy weightlessness she sometimes has with a _good_ orgasm (and this one is fucking fantastic) this moment of blissful euphoria when all is right with the world, and then she feels those songs of pleasure bolt and zing through her, warm sparks that rip through her and leave her a pulsing, shaking mess.

Robin cries out _her_ name and it only makes it better, it’s such a wonderful thing to hear when he’s inside her, when she’s riding out her orgasm. Her name on his lips, over and over, each syllable another punch to her core, until, “Love, darling, Regina, mmm, I’m going to, can I—”

“Come inside me,” she rasps, “Wanna feel you, please, come for me— oh!”

He pushes up into her hard, his body stiffens as he whispers her name one last time, and then there’s silence, just panting as they both catch their breath, as she collapses her entire weight on top of his and kisses him like there’s no tomorrow.

He gives back eagerly, and they are both breathless and shaky as they trade eager, tongue filled kisses, each a shot of endorphins for her, another warm moment she will absolutely cherish forever.

She tries to keep them joined for as long as possible, but it’s over too soon, he goes soft and slides out of her, she feels the warm loss of him, the dribble of warmth as he leaks out of her, and she hates it, hates that it over, that she can’t just hate another round with him as soon as she catches her breath.

Hates that this is it for them. The end of their story.

She rolls off of him and lies beside him, cuddles into him, not quite ready to leave, but reality is hitting her hard as she notices the rain is subsiding, and they are parked near a rather busy area for foot traffic and people will be walking by the car soon, tinted windows be damned, they shouldn’t risk that. And plus god, Marian and Graham are waiting.

“We have to go,” she says, hating every word of it.

Robin sighs, presses a kiss to her forehead and nods. “I know.”

She doesn’t want to leave this moment and certainly doesn’t want to return to a reality where Robin is leaving her life.

This fuck had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now it just feels idiotic. It’s making her want him even more, will make her miss him even worse.

“How much longer do I have with you?” she asks, scared of the answer. There’s an impending end date, he’s going to move away and it’s going to kill her, split her in two.

“My job doesn’t start until November.”

“Where is it?” she whispers.

He sighs, bites his lip.

“Where her family lives. In Vermont.”

It’s the same coast anyway, but it might as well be fucking Greece, North Carolina is too many hours away to be driving distance, and the fucking airport in Vermont is tiny and Robin has bitched about how annoying it is to fly to there often. So that’s it, then.

She has about two and a half months with him. She’s suddenly very angry, because how dare he move to Marian’s hole, to be with her family and abandon his own?

She’s… that’s what she is, isn’t it? Family. Their kids are like brothers, she and Robin are more than friends (obviously in many ways). And he’s leaving her, them, all of this, just to give perfect Marian all she could ever want.

It’s not exactly anger. It is jealousy. It rises and threatens to consume her.

“Why did you do this?” she asks, both scared of his answer and annoyed at it before he can even respond.

“Do what?” he asks.

“Kiss me,” she answers, “and then… everything else. Was this just…” She bites her lip. “Was this how you decided to say goodbye? Just, have me one last time?”

A fat lot of good this did the both of them, or her, at least, this will make those goodbyes infinitely harder.

“I kissed you because I couldn’t stop myself anymore,” he answers, “because every fucking moment these last seven years has been about me not kissing you, and I just… I’m only human, Regina.”

She tries to swallow the lump in her throat, god she could almost cry. “Was it just…” she won’t let him see her cry, won’t ruin this memory by getting too angry or sad, she _won’t._ “Was this just a fun moment? Something to get it out of your system safely, knowing it can’t lead to anything, that I won’t be able to get attached or think it meant more, because you’re leaving?”

“No,” he shakes his head vigorously. “Regina I just told you that I’m in love with you.”

Right. Love. He confesses his love. The type of love where he confesses to it as if it’s a sin and then tells her he’s running from it. That type of love. She closes her eyes and wills herself not to cry.

“Love, please understand, I just couldn’t hold it in anymore. I had to let you know, and as soon as I said the words, I couldn’t hold back from acting on them. This wasn’t… it wasn’t just about taking an opportunity for a quick fuck with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. It was more.”

Regina listens to him, really soaks him in, and he sounds so honest it almost breaks her.

And then he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and asks, “I know how I feel about you. But how do you feel?”

She knows how she feels, too. But it doesn’t help the situation. Not one bit.

“It doesn’t matter,” she answers, her voice shaky, “My feelings are irrelevant.”

“They aren’t,” Robin insists. “Please, tell me, Regina, I have wanted to know what you thought about me — about us — for years now. Please, tell me.”

But why? So they can confess to being in love with one another and wind up just as stuck and miserable as they currently are?

“What is your plan?” She asks him, curious and frustrated. “Do you plan on leaving your wife, giving up that job, ripping apart our families and rebuilding?”

“I…” Robin sighs. “No, I hadn’t planned that, or anything, listen, I—”

“Then my feelings don’t matter. And neither do yours,” she answers, fighting tears (god was a part of her really holding out hope he’d say yes? How terrible and exceedingly predictable of her).

“If you’d just listen to me—” he’s trying to explain, because he can tell she’s hurt, but Regina wants nothing to do with it.

“No,” she shakes her head, “we have to get back to everyone. They are waiting for us, and I...” she pauses, shuts her eyes tight, “I can’t talk about this anymore or I’m going be a mess at dinner and I won’t be able to explain why. Let’s look at this moment, this time, as both of saying goodbye to one another. A beautiful goodbye for a beautiful friendship.”

Robin blinks slowly several times, then shakes his head. “Regina, I don’t want to say goodbye. I can’t keep this up, seeing you so often and being so tempted and tormented that I can’t be with you the way I want, feeling that constant pull I’m fighting… but, love, I still want to be in your life. I can’t,” he lets loose a tear and it breaks her, she can’t see him in pain even if it’s a pain he inflicted on himself, “I don’t know how to live my life without you in it.”

Her voice cracks and is shaky with the weight of unshed tears, but she manages, “We can’t talk about this right now. We have to get back to having pizza. With your wife, and my boyfriend. And our kids. We have to back there and pretend everything’s normal, and that we didn’t just...have all this.”

Robin inhales a shaky breath, blows it out slowly and nods. “We will talk later, okay?”

She agrees, if only because there’s no way she won’t end up sobbing through dinner if she is faced with the reality of the situation, that they are, most likely, going to never see or hear from each other again in a few months.

That would be too much. She can’t think of that now, now he’s still here. So, it’s unexpected in the moment, she knows, but she kisses him deeply and passionately, tries to savor every last millisecond of it.

He smiles in a way that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, sighs, cups her cheek and lightens the mood when he tells her, “Just so you know, for future knowledge, you are still an unbelievably fantastic lay.”

Regina snorts, grateful for the levity, and he laughs too, snickers into her.

“You are too,” she tells him with a wink and a playful shove. “Though I’m fairly certain you know that.”

“I’m better with you,” he mutters.

It’s too sweet, what he’s saying, and she can’t deal with that right now.

“Robin,” she sighs, almost laughs. “It’s been 45 minutes. And my clothes are a soaked heap on the floor of your car. And yours aren’t any better. What are we going to tell them?”

Robin chuckles. “I… I think I have a plan for why we show up soaking wet. But I don’t think either of them will notice how long we’re gone. Or they wouldn’t if the kids don’t say anything. I’m right on that, aren’t I?”

It’s a poor thing to admit but probably true. Marian and Graham both never seem particularly invested in their significant others, and Regina always thought it should bother her, but it doesn’t. And apparently it doesn’t bother Robin, either.

They show up to dinner late and soaked, Robin explaining that he drove over a nail and blew the tire out, how they had to get out in the rain and push the car to the nearest gas station to get the tire patched up.

Marian and Graham laugh, mostly at the idea of Regina pushing an SUV down the street, and not a soul questions their ridiculous story.

He’s still leaking out of her during dinner, as Roland and Henry tell her of a game they just invented, as Marian leans over to kiss Robin’s cheek in a surprisingly affectionate way, as Graham returns from his own car to hand her a warm and dry change of clothes. And as she does change, in the dirty bathroom of the pizzeria, all she can think about is how Robin’s body felt against hers, how good he looked and how wonderful he made her feel.

God, it was a terrible mistake.

One she would repeat every single fucking time she had the opportunity.

It’s hard to focus on anything else at dinner. Several times she catches him looking at her and they trade a knowing look, her fingertips dance over that spot on her neck that only he knows about, and her mind keeps wandering and replaying that quick car fuck over and over, despite how inappropriate it may be.

She wonders if Robin is as caught in the moment as she is, but she then she catches him staring off into space a few times, or looking down her shirt in other moments and she thinks, yes, they made a terribly delicious mistake together and are suffering the damning, wonderful, painful consequences together, too.


	3. Chapter 3

Regina takes a shower when they get home.

She tells Graham and Henry that the combination of the beach and sea water and rain has made her feel absolutely disgusting, but in reality, she doesn’t feel as dirty as she _should._ There’s evidence of her affair between her legs, and she should feel sick with guilt and self loathing. But she just… doesn’t.

Still, she showers the evidence of that moment off her, because she needs to leave it and the moment itself behind her, needs to rinse it off and get back to reality.

She scrubs and washes and lathers and rinses and repeats in the hot, steamy water. But shower doesn’t help much in the way of cleansing her thoughts or soul, but at least she’s clean, sand free and smells fresh.

She misses Robin.

For fucks sake, it’s been two hours.

By the time she’s out of the shower, Henry has already had his and is in his room playing video games. 

“Hey Mom!” he says with a smile. “Wanna play a turn with me?”

“No, that’s all right,” Regina smiles, “play with your friends. But bedtime is at ten, okay?”

He groans, “I know, Mom. But it’s still summer vacation. Maybe just one night—”

“Maybe a few nights,” Regina says, cutting him off, “like how you got to stay up on Fourth of July, and your birthday. But tonight, let’s get to bed on time. You still have some summer reading to finish.”

“Fine,” Henry says without heat or annoyance, which pleases her. 

“Love you,” she tells him before he returns the sentiment and she leaves.

Henry had been her neighbor's child once. Regina was accustomed to babysitting him as a baby, the mother was erratic and very young, she struggled with something, but Regina didn’t know what. She was nice enough, they were friends, even, back when she was dating Robin the woman would send them gifts as thank yous for watching Henry while she worked or ran errands. She brought over food, she ate with them, her company was good, at least, and the two of them genuinely enjoyed her . But sometimes Henry would have to unexpectedly spend the night with Regina and Emma never told her why. People thought she was crazy, but she even bought a crib for him just so he had a good place to sleep when he needed to be there.

Regina didn’t blame Emma, not really. Others would hear the story and say the absolute worst things about her, but Regina will always see it differently. Emma was a child herself and she was in over her head. She tried, but the woman never had a mother herself, how could she be expected to be a good mother when she had exactly zero examples?

Then one night, an officer came to Regina’s door with news of Emma’s drug problems. She would need treatment, did Regina know of any family that would be willing to take him?

From that point, she fought for Henry, went through the foster system and insisted he belonged with her until Emma healed, that he had a room, that he cried for her, called her that infernal name — _Gigi_ — before he had ever said the word _Momma._

She fought, and she won. She became Henry’s foster mother for years. And when Emma just didn’t get better, and news came that she would be giving the boy up for adoption, Regina made the best decision in her life and offered to adopt him herself.

She was dating Graham by then, and he was so supportive of the whole thing, in a way, her mother reminded her, few men would be.

Robin was absolutely enchanted by the idea, said she was his mother, anyway, this whole time.

And so it’s done now, and she has a bond with her not-so-little boy that no one can break or match.

Years later and she’s still with Graham. He lives here, he makes Henry meals and will play ball in the backyard with him, but Graham is only _Graham_ to Henry. He’s not his father. 

Graham isn’t even her husband and she’s fine with that, she supposes. She’s not exceedingly romantic, or sentimental, but she can’t get up before a judge or priest or anyone and make vows to him. And perhaps he doesn’t want that either. They’ve talked of marriage, but Graham says he thinks the whole thing is antiquated, that he doesn’t need a ceremony and paperwork to make a relationship official.

And fine. Regina doesn’t, either.

She heads down to the den, the room Graham has made his own. He is watching a previously recorded rugby game and barely looks up as she enters the darkened room and sits next to him.

“You put him to bed, then?” Graham asks, his eyes never leaving the television.

“He’s ten, Graham. He puts himself to bed.” She tries to keep the irritation out of her voice, because she owes him that, especially since she just fucked the life out of her best friend a few hours ago. 

“Oh. Right. So he’s in his room then?”

“He is,” Regina tells him. “Playing video games. What are you watching?”

Because shouldn’t she make some attempt to share his interests? Soon she won’t have Robin in her life and there will be a hole, she won’t have her best friend. But, shouldn’t she be better friends with the man she’s been dating for years?

“It’s rugby. You won’t be interested,” he mutters. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” she says, trying to keep the disappointment and frustration out of her voice. “I just thought I’d spend some time with you.”

“We spent all damn day together,” he grumbles.

Right. Okay. 

Regina stands up to leave, and Graham must regret what he says, so he grabs Regina's arm and says her name.

“Yes?” Regina says, turning to him.

“I’m sorry I think I missed your meaning. After the game, come find me and we can have sex, okay?”

Her cheeks flush and she shakes her head. “That was _not_ what I meant. And not necessary,” she grumbles, leaving him to his fucking mancave and abandoning all hopes of establishing any connection with him tonight.

Sometimes he can just be so…

Whatever.

She watches a few episodes of something mindless on TV and then retires to bed with her book. But she can’t focus on much.

She’s too busy thinking about Robin.

How he felt, the words he said, how hard she came, how he looked at her, and their friendship for years, worst of all, how much she’s going to miss him.

He’s been so important to her, such a big part of her life. 

And she’s not sure how she’s supposed to continue living after he leaves. It already feels like she’s preparing to rip herself in two.


	4. Chapter 4

She’s both dreading and eagerly awaiting the waterpark dare she had made with Robin and Marian.

On the one hand, she really wants to see him, and this week has been hectic and they’ve barely had a chance to do much more than exchange a few texts and few words over the phone (words that have become on the edge of flirtatious since their meeting together, but really _shouldn’t_ be). On the other hand she has to watch him with _Marian,_ while she is with _Graham,_ and it… it doesn’t seem easy.

Being with him recently has brought her already inconvenient, inappropriate feelings to new, absurd levels, it’s like when they were first dating and she fell head over heels, couldn’t stop thinking about him without getting flushed and overwhelmed.

People at work have noticed she's tense. Mary Margaret has asked if she needs to talk (she does, but she can't, affairs are secret things, she can't go blabbing about feeligns she shouldn't have and actions she shouldn't have taken with the proper princess down the hall). She's been short with Henry, too, and frankly has done her best to entirely ignore Graham.

She tries to convince herself she's overthinking, that she and Robin got on perfectly fine for years and will yet again, that they've fucked hundreds of times and it never changed anything, what is one recent romp going to do?

She can be an adult here.

But when she arrives at the water park she’s hit with the same feeling she’s had for the past week, the past… six years, really. They are sharing a cabana, a little raised tiki tent with a table and multiple lounge chairs, alongside a private patio area. They’ve rented the bigger one—the one that comes with its own hot tub—before, but that’s more for parties, and there are only two of them.

Graham will only do the water park if they can reserve a cabana. They have food service, and more importantly, drink service, so he can sun himself and order some beers in a bucket, order something greasy and salty, and sun himself while listening to whatever podcast or music he has to play.

Marian, oddly, is very much the same, minus the beer. She likes the sun, her headphones, her books, and her relaxation.

But a day at the water park for Robin and Regina is… anything but relaxing.

“... But we need to hit the avalanche splash _first_ or the lines will take _forever_!” Henry insists.

“Avalanche splash?” Roland asks, his eyes wide looking at the daunting, straightward down water slide that, to be honest, still makes Regina a bit nervous. But for Roland, it’s the ride he waited in line for hours with his father for, only to back out at the last minute when faced with the opening of the deep tube. He’s not old enough for the worst of them, but this ride, the family friendliest of the “big” water rides, is by far the most popular and crowded, and the most adult of the rides a boy of Roland’s size can muster.

“You can do it this time, Ro. You’re two whole months older!” Henry insists. “Come on, let’s do it.”

“Maybe… that one?” Roland points to the smaller slide, the one with the slight incline and slow curves.

“The River Run?” Henry scowls, “But it’s—”

“Henry,” Regina says sternly, “What did I say about today?”

It’s a constant reminder she has with Henry, that he remember that Roland is small, that the boy looks up to Henry, and that if Henry grumbles too much, he will hurt Roland’s feelings.

Henry grits his teeth and nods. “Okay. Roland, we can start on those, but maybe we can try the Avalanche later!”

Roland’s smile is as big as the sun as he says, “Okay!”

Regina hears Marian’s skeptical chuckle.

Her nose is still buried in her book, her sunglasses on, concealing whatever look she might give as she mutters, “He’s never getting on that ride. I don’t know why you even humor him.”

“I could go on it!” Roland argues, but his mother scoffs. He looks up at Regina, a bit more determined. “I could! Couldn’t I, Regina?”

“Of course you could,” Regina answers before she thinks better of it, but she’s annoyed with Marian, frankly, at this moment. Annoyed at how she’s underestimating him, or challenging him, or making this day more than it is. She just wants Roland to have fun and not worry about whatever goals the boy may have or pressure he may have to grow up faster than he already is. “But right now we’re going to go on the River Run, and we will talk about the Avalanche later, okay?”

“Yeah!” Roland smiles, scooting over to his dad. “Let’s get a tube! I want an orange colored one!”

Henry follows the father and son, but Regina pauses, wondering if she owes Marian an apology.

“Should just let Henry go on the Avalanche while the line is low,” Marian says, her face still buried in her book. “Roland will never go on that ride. He takes after me. And Robin, for that matter. No courage.”

Regina bites her lip to keep the words she wants to say out of it (Robin is not a coward, he’s incredibly brave, nearly fearless, he’s never shrunk from a challenge — Marian should know that), and then shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. Roland will need a break around lunch. Henry can go then. Waiting in line builds character, I think my mother told me that at least once.”

“Mmm,” Marian hums, “Just prepare Henry for disappointment.”

Regina tries to fake a laugh, when all she wants to do is scream that nothing could ever make Henry disappointed in Roland, and that is how she likes it.

They are waiting in line for the River Run, the four of them, Henry and Roland just a bit ahead in line as they ran there first. She can observe them from here though, she can see how Henry amuses Roland by trying to reach him how to “dribble” their inner tubes in line, and it’s adorable, Regina can’t help but watch them with a smile.

“You look gorgeous.”

Robin whispers it in her ear when she least suspects it, and it throws her off, she was only just watching their children and there he is, sounding like pure sex as he rasps some pretty compliment into her ear.

She fights against the instinct to shiver and blush (perhaps unsuccessfully, frankly, and tries to give him a scolding glance, but it fails miserably, and her heart isn’t in shutting this down, and oh, they only have a few more months before he leaves and puts a safe distance between them, so what’s the harm in letting the pining continue while he is here?)

“You know that I do not,” she whispers back. She is wearing not a lick of makeup and her hair is pulled back into a messy bun to keep the wind from whipping it into her eyes. And sure, she is wearing a bikini, but it is built to stay in place, and it’s not exceedingly sexy (it’s just a slightly lower cut sports bra with twin straps that criss cross around her back… it’s not the more revealing of things she can wear to pool parties or even the beach).

She’s looked better. Much better, and she had fought the urge to make herself look better today. But that’s not how one dresses for a water park, and she didn’t want Graham or Marian to notice and say something about waterproof makeup or a skimpy, impractical swimsuit...

“You are,” he insists, biting down on his bottom lip and smiling. “Beautiful, toned, looking all fresh and natural. I think this is the look that tempts me the most.”

She rolls her eyes and smiles, but then she hears Henry’s laugh up the stairs and the sound has her crashing back into reality. They are joking around, their two perfect children, who maybe in a different world actually are brothers.

But in this one they are just friends with different parents, half of them partners Regina and Robin have chosen and it’s too late to do this to them.

“We shouldn’t, Robin,” she says tightly, avoiding his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” he blows out a slow breath of air. “I can’t really help it, Regina. I’m trying but… It was hard enough to control myself _before._ And now? _”_ He shakes his head, “After… being with you again… I just can’t.”

“I know,” she sighs. “But… we can’t. We are just going to dig ourselves into this deeper and it will be even harder to say goodbye. Plus,” she looks up the stairs at a smiling Roland and adds, “You’re married.”

“I don’t think anything will make me miss you less,” Robin shrugs. “But yes, I am married. And you’ve been with Graham forever.”

She nods, even though her relationship isn’t something she holds precious, she made a commitment and in many ways, they share a child.

“But tell me this,” Robin says in a low whisper. “Graham, Marian… Is that that the only reason you have for not wanting to do this with me?”

She should absolutely lie. Absolutely. There is no point in admitting the truth.

“No,” she says with a smile. Robin’s face falls a bit, but he can read her well, he knows there is a catch. He tilts his head in question and she explains, “There’s also Henry and Roland.”

She watches hii’m exhale in _relief._.

“Right,” Robin grins — he _grins._ What about this situation is smile worthy?

“And it’s not like either one of us would wish them away. And they don’t deserve their families to be broken apart, and—” his grin only widens, “and what about this is _funny_ to you? This situation is pretty awful, why are you so pleased with it?”

“Oh, it’s a terrible situation,” Robin agrees, “but decidedly less so than feeling so much for you for so long and thinking you felt nothing more than me than that of a friend for the past, oh, seven years.”

Oh.

She smiles, because yes, she had been suffering the same, and it _is_ nice knowing she wasn’t doing so alone.

“I feel a lot more than friendship for you,” she admits with a nod, Robin’s eyes glistening and wet as he hears it. “Not that our friendship isn’t deep and meaningful and rare all the same, special in ways I couldn’t ever describe or begin to replace.”

“I know,” Robin sighs.

“You’re my best friend. The best friend I have ever had,” Regina reminds him. “And you’re leaving me.”

“It’s not…” he sighs. “I’m not doing it to get away from you. I don’t want to not be in your life. I just… it’s complicated.”

She nods, fidgets and puts a stray, fallen lock of hair behind her ear.

“Everything will be different when I can’t see you whenever I want,” she murmurs.

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “Maybe… no, never mind.”

“What?” Regina asks.

“I was going to say maybe we should treat these next final weeks like the day before a cleanse. You know, you stuff your face full of junk so the first few days you’re sick of it anyway. Maybe if—”

“If I stuff myself full of you?” she asks with a sparkle in her eye. “I think we tried that.”

Robin snickers at the innuendo, and then shrugs. “You know what I mean. We only have a few weeks left. Maybe we should just take the time we have.”

Regina bites her lip. “And that means?”

“Working lunches, weekend visits with the kids, happy hours occasionally, and maybe we don’t worry too much about staring longingly or flirting with one another, because in a couple of months, I’ll be gone and nothing will come of it.”

She shouldn’t. Even if they never do much as touch lips, what he has proposed is very much an emotional affair. And there may be a lack of emotion in her relationship with Graham, but he’s never cheated on her. And he doesn’t deserve that from her.

“Okay,” Regina says, nodding her head. “Let’s do it.”

They just look at each other, awkward yet pleased as punch.

“Would you mind moving up?” a teenager behind them asks. The line has moved along significantly while they’ve been in their bubble, and there are now plenty of empty steps between them and the next person in line.

“Terribly sorry,” Robin says to the girl, “Completely our fault.”

He winks at Regina as they move up the wooden stairs and she feels settled and warm in ways she probably shouldn’t, but she isn’t ready to stop feeling any time soon.

.::.

The rest of the day is… hard.

Robin is an attractive man, a good friend, and an amazing father to Roland and… uncle… godfather… something, to Henry. And today, he is all those things in excess.

He is a father who _plays_ , he always has a game, or some sort of event for the children to engage in. The Lazy River is anything but lazy, as they get out of their tubes and engage in some sort of contest she’s not sure she understands.

She is actually relaxing, sunbathing on her little inner tube, when the children jump up and splash her. She screams at the intrusion, and Robin laughs, saying, “Enough, enough. I said a small splash and only _once._ ”

She tries to shoot him an unamused death glare, but his stupid, beautiful face is in the way, and she can only manage something that looks a little more like a desperately lovesick glance.

“Sorry, babe,” he shouts, “you just looked too comfortable there, we had to mess with ya.”

She does her best to roll her eyes and ignore them for the rest of the ride, but the three of them are loud and giggly, and it’s Henry’s voice she hears the loudest, shouting and laughing at Robin as he claims victory, Roland’s cheerleading a soft roar over the sound of what any passerby would think was father and son bonding.

And will Henry ever have that with Graham?

She shuts her eyes and focuses on the warmth and heat of the sun.

Later that day, they race down one slide that requires them to zoom on foam mats. Robin and Henry race first, and it’s very competitive, Robin giving it his all and winning handily. Regina is far more careful when racing Roland, who barely squeaks out a win, whooping in celebration as he hits the pool at the bottom of his slide.

He leaps into her arms when she hits the pool behind him, wrapping legs around her and kissing her forehead.

She tries to steal a glance in the direction of their cabana, but she can’t quite see it from there.

And it’s more than likely that Marian wouldn’t care at all about the little moment of affection she has with the boy, despite it making Regina oddly guilty the way these moments rarely have since Roland’s birth.

Robin is toned and tanned and gorgeous. His wet, golden skin taut and glimmering in the sunlight, every stretch or odd flex of his muscles makes her want him all over again.

But when they make their way back to the cabana for lunch, drinks, and more sun tan lotion, Robin greets Marian with a kiss that is as easy as breathing, and Regina damn well forgets how to breathe herself.

He’s just so… They are just so…

“Anything you need?” he asks Marian. Marian murmurs something Regina can’t hear (she shouldn’t be listening), and then Robin’s voice goes low, too. Regina has to get out the carrot sticks and apple juice for the boys, their chicken tenders and fries have been ordered and are coming soon, and they will need to get in something halfway decent before they fill themselves with grease and fat, so she better pay attention to that instead of…

Instead of whatever quiet, intimate moment the two of them are having.

“You having a good time?” Graham asks Henry, who nods and smiles.

“A _great_ time,” he tells him. “Robin and I are going to go on the Plymouth Plunge. Do you want to come with us?”

Graham looks up at the steep slide and shakes his head. “All you, buddy. And you,” he says loudly to carry his voice across the cabana to Robin, holding his beer in salute to him. “Thanks for doing the dirty work, so we don’t have to.”

“It’s not work,” Henry grumbles. “It’s _fun.”_

“It _is_ fun for me,” Robin admits, “no need to thank me.”

Graham laughs. “You’re a better man than me.”

Understatement.

Robin shakes his head and mutters a bit too sincerely under his breath _No, I’m not._

Regina thinks of rainstorms, wet, salty skin and shaking orgasms while pressed against the belt buckle of his car.

Maybe he’s not very righteous and he’s not exactly faithful, but he’s still a better man, a better father and husband, even if he strayed a bit, at least he cares about Marian and is willing to give her anything she needs. Even move up to snowy Vermont so his wife can be around family.

Even leave Regina for Marian’s comfort.

Graham would never uproot his life like that. Even if they did have that type of love, she knows he’s not capable of being so selfless.

Over the years she’s done her best to not be jealous of Marian and for the most part, it’s worked.

But today, seeing even the small gentle touches he gives her, the way he absently brushes her leg as he talks and eats, the soft kiss he presses to her forehead, well…

Something green and ugly twists in her stomach, along with some feeling of misplaced possessiveness.

He’s not hers, after all.

She’s stuck in her own feelings, spaced out and not following the conversation when Graham calls out her name.

“Hmm?”

“Where were you just now?” Graham chuckles, and Regina can only think that he really doesn’t want to know the answer to that.

“We were talking about our Thanksgiving tradition is going to be broken for the first time in five years,” Graham recounts. “I asked you if we should go to Cora’s, or try the waters with my dad.”

No, she definitely doesn’t want Graham’s dad making joking comments about not buying the milk when Graham gets it for free, the ugly way he treats Henry, as if he’s an accessory.

And she’s not ready for Cora this year. Holidays at the Mills’ house are stressful and not something she wants to subject Henry to quite yet.

“I don’t…” Regina tries to think of a way to spend Thanksgiving that won’t be exceedingly boring or possible for Henry, but she can’t.

“We are probably going to take a few trips back to wrap up loose ends after we move,” Marian shrugs, “we should come back for Thanksgiving. We will only have been gone for a few weeks but… I mean, Roland is attached to Henry. I think this will help with the transition.”

Okay, but after Robin leaves, Regina doesn’t need him coming back and filling her house with his loving marriage and adorable child and reminding her of everything she gave up.

“Great, Marian, I’ll buy all the ingredients if you promise to make that cornbread stuffing, because I look forward to that every year and to be quite honest it’s the thing I’ll miss about you guys most.” Graham winks at them.

“I… are you sure you want to come back so soon after you leave?” Regina asks dumbly, “I mean you’ll be so busy, you shouldn’t have to do that on account of us, we will—”

“Come on, Regina, they want to do it,” Graham tells her, swigging a beer. “Wouldn’t want to if they asked, right?”

“Right,” Marian nods, “And Roland is going to be upset enough when he’s not able to spend Halloween with Henry—”

“No Halloween with Henry?” Roland asks, apparently he had been somewhat listening to the conversation, despite being wrapped up in whatever he’s currently coloring, whatever activity Marian and Robin have given him to keep him quiet and sitting still through lunch.

“We’ll talk about that later,” Marian tells him.

“No trick-or-treat with Henry?” Roland asks, looking at Henry as if he can get them out of this mess.

“We’re going to trick-or-treat with your cousins this year. Up in Vermont,” Marian tells him. “And Grandma will have a haunted house, how does that sound?”

“But I want _Henry_ ,” the boy insists.

Henry frowns into his lunch. “Everyone gives me more candy when I go with Roland,” he grumbles. “Why does he have to move?”

“Yes, I’m sorry Robin and Marian didn’t consider your Hhalloween candy stash when they were planning to move,” Regina drawls sarcastically. “I think we’ll manage.”

Henry grumbles and plays with the food on his plate. “But you guys will visit all the time, right?” he asks, eyes focused on Robin.

“Of course!” Robin tells him, stealing a glance at her and pointedly repeating, “Of course.”

And she doesn’t know whether this promise makes her hurt less or more. How many more years will it be of almost having him and yet, not having him at all?

“Come on, finish eating and then we’re going to go wait in that nice long line for the plunge and digest our food,” Robin smiles at Henry, patting him on the back.

She takes Roland on the attractions for younger kids while Robin and Henry spend the rest of the day largely together going on the wilder rides. She loves Roland, adores that little boy, the way he laughs and splashes in the water, how he has to show her every last exciting thing about the kid’s activity zone, she even loves his whine when she won’t let him in the wave pool (too dangerous, she won’t budge on that).

They end up meeting back with Robin and Henry to ride the family slide together, all four of them shoved into a large tube that goes lazily down a shallow incline, as Robin tilts and maneuvers them so they slide up on every curve, Roland squealing and gripping his hand as they do.

They are too rooted in one another’s lives. That’s why Robin moving and taking Roland feels not only like losing her best friend but losing a limb. And she’s always felt guilt for her relationship with Roland — it’s close, closer than a family friend should be to a little boy, but it’s been years and it’s too late to end it. He’s as special and important to her life as Robin is.

And this isn’t fair, not one bit.

What’s also not fair at all is the way Robin keeps looking at her, the way he keeps flirting with her or making it very clear that he’s thinking of things far more than friendship. What’s not fair at all is how he thinks it’s okay to hug her and kiss her cheek goodbye, to lean in and whisper that he loves her when everyone is distracted putting stuff in the car.

What’s not fair is how she shouldn’t like it, she shouldn’t so openly and unashamedly crave more.


	5. Chapter 5

“Robin is moving,” Regina blurts out to Mary Margaret, then ducks into her coffee to hide from the look of concern that her coworker (and friend, best friend, no matter what they’ve been through) is no doubt giving her.

She had noticed a difference in Regina right away and hasn’t let up since. The woman has been asking her if she’s okay far too often for Regina to ignore. So she blurted it out, now, here, in the break room at their office, in the morning, which means whatever talk they have will ruin her for the rest of the day.

Real smart, Regina.

And anyone could come in at any time, and ——

“Oh my god, Regina,” Mary Margaret croons, “Come here, come on, get into my office.”

Mary Margaret is young but her office is nearly the biggest save for their boss. It’s not exactly earned. She has influence, her father has power and money and her name carries a reputation. Regina’s mother has spent a lifetime trying to keep up with the Blanchard’s, and a part of her will always be annoyed that the woman she’s been pressed to align herself with her whole life really is a sweet, though naive girl, and a loyal friend. 

She’s painfully feminine, and her office looks like a Laura Ashley catalogue mated with a Lily Pulitzer one, but Regina has learned to appreciate the frilly, girly qualities of her, and only grimaces a bit at the frills and splotches of pink that dot the office, the oddly placed bird-shaped objects and delicate porcelain frames filled with pictures of her (admittedly gorgeous) husband.

“He’s moving? Really? When did he tell you and when is he moving? And why? And why didn’t you tell me sooner!”

“I just found out last week,” Regina admits with a sigh. “Vermont. Sometime in early October I think? He got a promotion apparently, and Marian’s family lives there. And it’s far away. And I’m… I mean it’s a good opportunity for him, so I’m supportive.”

“Henry must be devastated,” Mary Margaret says, staring off into the window.

“He’s...handling it well,” Regina clears her throat. “He has Graham, you know.”

“He’s known Robin before he ever knew Graham. You two… You raised that boy before he ever was your child. Together as friends, but together nonetheless. Don’t pretend otherwise. I can’t believe he’d leave Henry like that!” 

“He has no obligation to Henry,” Regina forces herself to say, though the words sound wrong. “He’s my child. Robin has his own.”

“How are _you_ doing?” Mary asks, then qualifies, “I mean I know you’re not doing well you’ve been moping around the place, and—”

“I do _not_ mope!” Regina nearly shouts. “I’ve been a bit confused and maybe a little stunned, but I’m happy for him. Just… processing this and what it means.”

“He’s your best friend,” Mary says without a hint of jealousy. “And he loves you.”

“He loves his wife,” Regina tells her. “We’ve been over for years. He got married! He had a child, Mary Margaret.”

Mary Margaret just shrugs. “I don’t know what you two are but what you have is way closer and deeper than friendship. You’re closer than most married couples I know. This has to hurt. Just admit that you are hurting! It’s so obvious!”

“Fine!” Regina sweeps her hair behind her ear. “I’m hurting, okay? I can’t imagine not seeing him all the time, I can’t even think that our life will be relegated to video chats and text messages. And I don’t know what to do with all these feelings.”

“You could, I don’t know, talk about them? With him?” Mary Margaret asks. “Have you told him anything?”

“He was a coward. Didn’t even tell me, Marian had told Graham and they accidentally mentioned it in front of me. So yeah, he knew it would hurt me.”

“God damn it, Robin,” Mary Margaret groans. “Did you ask him to stay?”

Regina laughs, shakes her head. “What right on Earth would I have to ask that? To strangle his career opportunities so what? He could keep doing family picnics with my family? What are you thinking?”

Mary Margaret shrugs. “If I tell you what I’m thinking you’ll just tell me how wrong I am and I’m not in the mood to play that game again. But he’s still important to you, Regina. Friends are important. You don’t have to act like you don’t have a right to be hurt or to miss him.” 

“I know,” Regina sighs. She’s grateful Mary Margaret isn’t going to have another interrogation about whether Regina might have more-than-friend feelings for Robin. That’s too much for a morning coffee break, and she’s too tired of fighting her feelings to deny it the way she has in the past. 

“He wants to...um, see me as much as possible before he leaves,” Regina says tentatively. “I don’t know if that will make things worse or make them easier. But he works right around the block, and we could see each other for lunch all the time. I started limiting those lunches years ago because people were talking and assuming things they shouldn’t have, and it was getting… too close, I guess?”

“I know I’m not quite what Robin is, but if you were leaving, I’d want to spend as much time with you as possible before the end,” Mary shrugs. “Isn't that normal? I don’t know if it will help you not miss him or hurt, but I don’t think it would be something you’d regret, right?”

Regina shrugs. “I think I’m afraid.”

Mary Margaret smiles and shakes her head. “I _know_ you are. Regina, I’m so sorry. I’d offer you a hug but I know you say it just wrinkles your silk shirts, so, I’m sending you a virtual hug.” She closes her eyes and focuses, and Regina has to stifle laughter. This is a serious matter to Mary Margaret.

“Thank you,” Regina says when Mary’s eyes open. “I’m going to be okay, I’m just….painfully aware of how dependent I’ve become on him for so much, his company, his advice, his encouragement. And realizing that has me embarrassed and… maybe guilty?”

“You have nothing to feel guilty about,” Mary Margaret chirps, and god, she’s wrong, but Regina can’t very well tell pure as snow Mary Margaret about her rendezvouz in the car. “If I were you, I’d go out to lunch with him for as often and as much as you could. And after, when he’s gone, if you need some company, a drinking partner, or a couple that you wanted to hang out with, I’ll be there. David can even come sometimes, trust me, he’s a bit more fun when you get something to drink in him.”

“Thank you,” Regina smiles, because Mary Margaret’s social calendar is quite full, both with business meetings, family events, and friendship dates, and if she is going to fit her in, she must be a good friend indeed. “And… I think I will spend more time with him. It’s just lunch, right?”

“Right, it’s just lunch,” Mary Margaret nods, “Oh my god, there are so many fun lunch spots you’ve been ignoring while you spend your lunches at the gym with your sad salad tupperwares. I’m going to start emailing them all to you.”

Regina smiles and tries to remind herself that there’s absolutely no reason to feel like something as innocuous as sharing a meal with her friend is somehow dangerous and wrong.

.::.

It’s just lunch. 

That’s what she repeats to herself every step of the way to the restaurant. 

Just like Mary Margaret said.

She’s not going to fuck Robin, she’s just going to eat lunch with him.

Just lunch.

But it feels like an illicit affair as she lies to coworkers and says she has a business meeting and working lunch.

It _feels_ covert as she meets up in some undiscovered little spot just out of the downtown area.

It feels secretive, and why should anything as innocent lunch need to be a secret?

Why aren’t they just going to the same power lunch spots that the people in their office always go to?

He had invited her to a new Thai restaurant he swears is delicious (she has no doubt, he’s got good taste). It’s quiet. Half empty. The lighting is dim, and the crowd looks more like college kids and families than the professional working lunch crew. And that suits her just fine.

He’s already seated and waiting, a devilish smile on his face as she makes her way to him.

“Hi,” she smiles, and she can do this — she can do this here — she reaches across the table to hold his hands for a second.

It’s not big, but it’s contact, something she’s needed for and craved since the last time she’d seen him.

“Hi,” Robin says, so happy his smile is overflowing, she feels the warmth, the giddiness from across the table, echoing her own.

“Hey,” she says. “So you’re sure this is the type of Thai I like?”

She tries to look skeptical, but Robin isn’t worried at all and explains the menu and his favorite items.

They fall into a routine, talking of their children, their work, and it’s nicer than usual, because Regina doesn’t worry about him noticing the way he’s looking at her, the way she blushes when he pays her the simplest of compliments. She doesn’t have to worry about him feeling awkward when she ogles him, or confused when her leg grazes against his. Cards are out on the table. He loves her, he _wants_ her, and he’s already running away so it’s not like before, when she would worry he could see her thoughts when she’d focus too much on his lips, get lost in his eyes, couldn’t help staring at every aspect of his face and would put distance between them. Distance is already coming. No worse can happen.

He knows how she feels (almost, not quite, he does) and more importantly she knows how he feels. And it’s not enough but carrying the burden of these secret feelings for seven years has been oppressively awful, and she’s glad to be rid of it.

She keeps staring at him while they eat, grinning too much, frankly. He asks if she enjoys his recommendation and she admits she loves the food, would love to come back, and rubs his calf with the side of her foot as she says it.

He nearly _shivers_ , his eyes closing as she takes him in, the crinkle of his eyes, the intensity of his jaw, the way he seems desperate for more of her.

He opens his eyes after a moment and breathes out a long, labored breath.

She smiles knowingly, because he’s not the only one affected now. She crosses her legs and shifts back, centers herself and tries to get the dirty thoughts out of her mind. 

It’s him reaching across the table to squeeze her hand, as he mentions something about work, that has her struggling to listen over her fast beating heart.

They need to get the check soon, but they are stalling, the both of them, drawing out the conversations, refilling glasses of water, trading jokes and reliving the old, dead memories they have.

She’s caught in his eyes again, but he doesn’t call her out, just tilts his head knowingly and smiles.

She bites her lip and clears her throat.

“This is nice. Seeing you in the middle of the week without kids. We never did this as much as I liked. And now I’m kicking myself for taking for granted how close we worked. We should have made this a regular thing long ago.”

“It was a bit dangerous before,” he admits, squeezing her hand. “I always knew I was one weak moment away from spilling all my feelings for you. And I’m… very weak for you.”

It’s a corny line but delivered so tenderly she doesn’t mind. It comes off so sweet and sincere it’s all she can do to keep from kissing him. 

She doesn’t want to run away (she’s not running away, she’s not), but at that moment she just needs a break, needs some distance before she does something stupid.

“I have to run to the bathroom,” she mumbles, ducking and sliding off her chair to find one of the unisex bathrooms at the end of the hall. It’s not even a lie, asking for refills on water however many times will do that to you. 

But it’s also an opportunity to keep herself from overheating and melting in front of him. She dabs cool water on her face, touches up her makeup, and looks at herself, determined. 

“Don’t do it,” she scolds to her reflection. “No matter how good it feels, how _right_ it feels, he’s _married_. This can’t happen again.”

She takes a few deep breaths and tries to turn off that part of her brain craving him like air.

And she thinks she has, until the moment she steps outside that door and sees him, standing there, waiting for her.

He makes the move first, but she’s all too eager to meet his lips the moment he draws himself near and tilts his head.

It’s a _good_ kiss, passionate, hot and hungry, he backs her back into that bathroom without a second thought, kicking it shut as his lips never move off her.

His hands grow greedy, hers, too (if he’s going to slide his hand over her ass she can do the same, fuck she’s allowed to grope him at this point), and they are both a moaning, panting mess by the time she breaks the kiss for air.

She can feel his puffs of air as he attacks her neck, down her shoulders, his lips and tongue tracing a path of pleasure with each swirling kiss, his lips are firm, but he knows better than to leave any marks, and she’s writhing under the feel of him, god she wants more, she wants to feel him inside her again (no, they can’t, that would definitely be wrong).

He’s made his way down to her chest (she’s wearing a shirt with a plunging neckline so there is ample cleavage to kiss, she doesn’t regret dressing to tease now), and she can hear the sounds she is making, deep and raspy and then high and breathy, a clear indication she is much too affected from just _kissing_ , god, if it weren’t for the obvious sign that this is equally affecting him, she’d be embarrassed. 

She’s warm and wet and needy between her thighs, her nipples are hard and aching (his mouth is so close to them, all she’d have to do is _ask_ him and he’d free her breasts and suck on them like she wants, but, no, no, she should keep her clothing boundaries if she cannot seem to keep any of her other boundaries today.)

“God, I’ve missed kissing you,” he murmurs into her ear, his lips brushing against her as he speaks, as if he can’t bear to stay away for even one minute.

“God, Robin…”

“Mmm, love,” he rasps back before claiming her lips again.

_Love._

It’s hardly a new pet name, he’s called her love several times over the years, and definitely when they were dating. But it reminds her that he really does _love_ her, and that makes this all the more unfair and dangerous. They shouldn’t be doing this in private, they should be together, and it’s too late to fix anything. 

And this, wonderful as it is, isn’t helping.

It’s a herculean effort to part from him (god, she wants to fuck him right in this little bathroom, if there was even the possibility she could be quiet she probably wouldn’t have the strength to end this), but she’s able to put some distance between them, catching her breath as Robin does the same.

She can’t help but smile at him, because he looks _so_ good. But then he smiles back and leans in to kiss her again and no, he’s misinterpreted. It wasn’t a _pause_. It was a _stop_.

“We shouldn’t do this,” she says with a twinge of pain. “Robin, this isn’t fair. You’re married.”

He bites his lip and nods. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t see each other alone like this. There’s too much… between us. It’s unfair to do this to someone you love,” Regina murmurs. 

“And do you love Graham?” he asks, his eyes burrowing into her soul.

She should lie, but she doesn’t. 

“Not the way I should,” she admits.

He groans and leans against the bathroom wall.

“But you love Marian,” she points out. “You told me so. And I can tell. It’s… obvious. And sometimes painful to see, even at the waterpark, the way you—”

“I do love her,” he sighs. “I _care_ for her. I _worry_ about her. There are things you don’t know. But I don’t love her the way I should, either.”

“Why are you moving away with her then? Moving your family to her hometown away from all your friends?”

“Because…” Robin sighs. “Look, I don’t want you to think anything about my marriage has to do with how I feel about you. It doesn’t, I’ve loved you just as strongly and I would no matter what was happening in our marriage. But it’s not going well. Because I do love her. But not like I should.”

Regina’s throat goes dry. Their marriage seemed… easy going. They almost never argue. They have their own interests, but neither seem to begrudge the other. And yet, perhaps that’s a warning sign all in itself. 

“Maybe we don’t have to put a stop to this,” Robin murmurs. Regina’s eyes go wide, and she’s ready to argue when he adds, “I mean, it will stop all on its own when I move. And I am moving. There’s a nice safe end date. And I know it’s wrong, and it’s not fair to either Graham or Marian. But I… I’m never going to get to feel this again, after this… this is it for me. And we don’t have long on this Earth, and if I only have a few days to kiss and touch the woman I love, I’m going to take them, however wrong. And if you in any way feel the same—”

She kisses him to shut the rest of his argument out, because at this point it is just wasted words. She feels the same. More than he knows, more than she should allow herself to admit. 

“I don’t want to…” she sighs as she breaks the kiss. “I _want_ to keep _having lunch_ with you, but I’m weak for you, too. And it won’t always just be _lunch._ But you’re right, this has a safe end date. So... maybe I won’t fight this anymore and we will let what happens happen. But… it shouldn’t go as far as it did the first time. And it shouldn’t take time away from your family, or mine.”

“Okay,” Robin breathes. “I’m sorry, if you feel at all pressured—”

“No, you’re not the only one who wants to feel like this again. It’s been way too long,” she says, smoothing her hair back.

“And it’s way too nice to put an end to it before it must.”


	6. Chapter 6

They have regular lunch dates now.

Mary Margaret throws Regina a knowing smile every morning as she finds her already there, early so she can stay an extra half hour or so for lunch. Sometimes, lunch runs a bit longer and she might have to stay an extra twenty minutes to get her work done. No longer than that.

Henry doesn’t notice any difference at all.

Except him noticing her exceptionally good mood lately, that is. Graham, too. It seems she’s a better mother and girlfriend when she’s getting her emotional and… arguably some physical needs met (she’s had a lot of good fantasies of finishing up those lunch dates with marathon sex sessions, and it might not be as satisfying as the real thing, but it’s still incredibly blissful, pumps her full of endorphins, especially knowing he’s doing the same).

She’s a better employee, too. People have remarked about her mood. She’s had fresh and exciting ideas that have been taken in their meetings. She’s a better friend to Mary Margaret, happier, more understandings.

Her affair (and it _is_ an affair, even if there’s no more sex, constant dates where you stick your tongue down your best friends throat and then read a text about how he’s jerking off thinking about you while you do the same is the very essence of an affair, as much as she’s trying to keep some boundaries) is actually making her feel _better_ about herself instead of worse. She tolerates Graham more now that she’s not looking for him to fulfill needs he could never hope to satisfy. She is happier and that makes her a better mom.

Robin admits the same, that his household has remarked on his good mood, that his happiness may have rubbed off onto Marian, even.

And all of this makes it so much easier to lie to herself and tell herself that it’s okay, that she’s not hurting anyone and this can continue.

She sees Marian a few times over the next few weeks, and it’s awkward, seeing her with Robin, but luckily there’s not as much interaction. Marian has packing to do, so she’s mostly there to drop Roland and Robin off and then leaves with a grateful smile after a few moments. Regina is only guilty that she doesn’t feel guilty.

Not _every_ lunch hour leads to a makeout session for dessert. Sometimes they just hold hands, flirt and talk about nonsense. Later he will text her on snapchat (to erase the evidence) and tell her that he’s thinking of her, and she texts him the same.

Sometimes they end up kissing in an alley, in the parking lot, or well, this time, in an empty parking garage.

She had walked back into his car and kissed him until she was breathless, he coaxed her inside to sit on his lap and she wanted nothing more than to follow. He rubbed his hands over her tits as she ground against his cock, not intending to come just like that, but he was so hard, his fingers lightly pinching and twisting her nipples through her clothes.

And she has absolutely no intention of _coming_ from this, it was just supposed to be a good kiss and some gentle groping.

But her body doesn’t listen, her hips move as if of their own volition, and when she reaches that point of no return, he urges her over, whispering words of encouragement in her ear, telling her to let go for him, that she’s so beautiful like this, that he’s been dreaming of making her come again, to please, please come in his arms, come against him.

She does, soars over that edge with a soft cry, wrapping her arms around him tightly as she does, wanting him closer, wanting more of him even as he is all around her.

And as she’s coming down from her high she doesn’t once wonder how she’s supposed to let this go.

He’s a noble man, tells her he’s fine, that he can tend to his own needs, but he is straining in his slacks, the hint of sweat on his neck and tension in his jaw revealing how worked up he is.

She slides to the left, until wedged between him and Roland’s booster seat (at this point, she feels no guilt over that seat nor what it represents).

And then she unzips him and takes him in his mouth.

He halfheartedly whispers _you don’t have to do that_ but his words stop when she wraps her lips around him, and then he’s combing his hands through her hair, thrusting into her mouth, he is loud and so, so pent up. He tells her how good she feels, how he’s missed her tongue, how he’s so achingly hard for her, how he thinks about this all the time, how he _needs this,_ needs her, how gorgeous she looks sucking him, and then he babbles incoherently when she shifts from the slow sucking bobs up and down his shaft to the corkscrewed, faster swirls, her tongue licking where he is most sensitive on every pass, reaching into his fly to cup and stroke his balls. She sucks him just that way, until he’s crying out for her, groaning and thanking her with every breath, and then it’s _Oh, Regina, my love, oh god, love, I’m gonna, mm— can I—”_

She hums permission, and he sounds so god damn wonderful in response, she even loves the way he palms the back of her head and gently urges her to take him deeper down her throat when he spills into her, his deep, satisfied grunt echoing in her ears as she swallows every drop (she’s certainly not going to let anything spill in the family vehicle, after all).

They are both breathless and satisfied (admittedly sucking him off has made her a bit needy again, but they don’t have all day to keep reciprocating on one another, and it will dissipate, those pangs of desire).

She waits for him to tuck himself back inside his trousers before she cuddles up into him. They are late, and his windows are tinted and the parking lot is abandoned on this level, but anyone could come at any time, she should care about this and yet, does not.

They both love the afterglow, and at this point she’s done with denying herself one drop of intimacy with Robin until she’s absolutely forced to.

There’s only a month before he leaves and she’s not sure how she’s going to manage when he’s not here anymore.

These last few weeks have been everything to her.

“You know…” she breathes, “As wrong as this all is, everything has just felt right. The only thing that feels wrong is the time we spend apart.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I feel the same.”

When she comes back to work, late and flushed, Mary Margaret only smiles at her and tells her that she must have smeared her lipstick on a napkin at lunch, and to freshen up.

For a moment she fears the girl knows something, but then, Mary Margaret would never condone such behavior, she’d probably disown her as a friend if she knew.

So she doesn’t apologize or make excuses, doesn’t confess or give away her secret, just smiles and says something about spicy food burning her lips, and goes to the bathroom to make herself presentable.

.::.

On Robin’s last week of work, Regina is struck by an impending sense of dread every day. The only thing that seems to clear her mind of the misery she will soon face is seeing Robin.

And they do that. To excess.

The lunches last far too long, but she doesn't care about work, not this week. They talk, they delay leaving, they sneak off to a bathroom or their cars or just some semi-private alleyway to kiss and touch. 

It's not as satisfying anymore, beause each time she leaves she's intimately aware of how soon this is all disappearing. 

But still, it's nice, it's better than nothing, there are few reasons anyone could hate being held by Robin Locksley.

But they have to hide even the more innocent signs of affection at most lunch places, just to be safe, and she doesn't love that.

So Regina is the one who suggests they have lunch at the hotel restaurant a bit removed from the downtown for their last lunch. It’s full of tourists and people visiting for medical and legal conventions, nice enough, but boring and full of no one they would know.

So when he sees her in the hotel lobby, he can give up all pretense and kiss her, as if they weren’t hiding their love at all.

That's what she wanted, and she smiles. Maybe they can share a booth. maybe he can put his hand on her leg for most of dinner, and she can lean over to kiss him whenever the mood strikes.

It's not enough, but it's something.

He does kiss her when he meets her, long and passionate, adn she moans into it, kisses him back, breaking only to kiss his jaw and down his neck.

"God, Regina..." he groans, "You're dangerously close to making a spectacle of me."

"Oh?" Regina asks, tracing that veing in his neck with her tongue. "Afraid of a little PDA?"

"Afraid of walking around a rather nice hotel with a very obvious erection," he answers, adn she snickers. 

"Think innocent thoughts," Regina instructs. "Baseball stats, chess formations..." she buries her tongue in his mout and Robin moans.

"I'm trying," he pants when she breaks the kiss, this time nibbling at his earlobe, "but I can't.... you're too much."

She snickers. "Keep it together," she begs him, thrusting against him to where he is certainly already half hard. "I'm not done with you yet. I've not been able to touch you in public like this in... forever. I miss it. And we'll have to behave when we walk into that restaurant."

"Mm," Robin agrees, "oh, love -- that's nice -- _oh that's lovely--_ god your tongue -- mm! -- love, _oh god_ \-- I, mm! I did something I should confess to you." 

She stops then, pulls back to look up at him. "What did you do?"

“Well…” Robin says, running his hands through his hair. “I… probably shouldn’t have done this, and no pressure, but, um, I got a hotel room. And I can't help but think even if all we are going to do is...this... it might be better there. Or at least more comfortable, for me. But if you'd rather not, we can go to the restaurant and pretend it never happened.”

She raises her eyebrow but says nothing.

“Not for… I’m not expecting anything, but we could… order room service, and we wouldn’t have to check around the room before we kiss, or touch, or just… be ourselves.”

She doesn’t say a thing.

“It has two rooms,” he adds, “We could close the bedroom door. We can just sit on the couch. It will be just a private room to eat. Or we can walk into that restaurant and pretend I didn’t say anything.”

She shakes her head and walks to the elevator. Sometimes he's so silly. How can he not read her? Her signs were quite obvious. She was a few seconds away from dry humping him in a crowded lobby. 

“What floor?” she asks.

.::.

They do order room service, even make enough small talk to wait for it to arrive before things get too steamy. 

She had pinned him to the door the second they entered it, kissed him and teased him until he was hard, untils he knew he was aching for it, adn then they slowed down, ordered their meal, and she told ehrself they had to be good. There's no pretext of _just lunch_ if they don't even order lunch, right?

It starts up again on the couch while they are waiting for their food, just a few kisses and touches, until she pulls him down on top of her, and they are there, horizontal, rubbing and touching already, and who cares anyway?

Room service comes, and the food looks and smells delicious, but she can't bring herself to eat.

She's honestly just happy no one will knock at the door and interupt what she'd much rather be doing.

Her skirt is rucked up around her hips, his cock is hard, cradled between her thighs, thrusting against the growing damp spot on her panties as she moans and seeks the pleasure she is certainly not goign to deny herself today, on his last day.

And she could easily get off here and be done with it, but fuck it.

There’s a nice big bed in the next room.

"Bed," she breathes into his ear. "Can we go--"

"Fucking absolutely," he growls, helping her off the couch nad walking her into the bedroom.

"You're so damn beautiful, Regina," he praises, 

She never meant for it to get this far, she’s actually always kept her clothes on with Robin — he might have unzipped his pants once, but that’s it.

So she tells herself just going to kiss him on this bed, maybe rub herself against him to orgasm, that’s it…

“God, I want you so bad,” he says as he thrusts his hips against hers as he hovers over her in bed, his cock slides against her clit and she moans, god, this may be the last time, how can she — she can’t think about that right now.

“Wish I could taste you,” he groans as they kiss, “God, I love the way you taste, love feeling you come on my tongue.”

Oh god, he shouldn’t say things like that, not when she is soaking wet under her clothes, aching for a release in a way she can’t remember, she’s weak, she’s so weak, she wants this so bad she can taste it.

“Robin,” she moans, “Please, I want—”

“Please let me,” he gasps.

She nods.

"You have no idea how badly I need this," Robin moans, as he takes her underwear off.

He's between her thighs, having his way with her, teasing and bringing her to that edge, letting her ride the anxious, tight waves and then drawing back.

"Robin!" she cries out, they have precious little time, she has to get back to work, but oh god, not now, not when his tongue is on her clit, when his fingers are thumping inside her, oh god, work can wait until tomorrow. She needs this _now._ "

"Make me come," she moans, and Robin moans, works her up harder, finally lets her seek that release.

She is panting, her voice hoarse, throat dry as sandpaper. He gets her water, adn she drinks it greedily, watching his eyes fall over her form but having the decency to wait for her to lead. And that makes him even more irresistable.

"My turn," she murmurs, pushing him down on the bed.

"Your turn? What do you intend-- oh god, Regina!" He loses his words as her lips wrap around his cock.

"Love when you do this," he groans, "Best I've ever had, you're so --mmm! fuck, love, please suck harder."

She does, but she slows the pace, teases him back, until he is a moaning, panting mess and she can almost laugh at his frustration until seh puts him out of his misery and does what he's begging for, she straddles him and takes him inside her, ridiing him fast until they both find their release.

It's like a shot of seratonin, the rush of being with him like this, and she is giddy and can't stop smilign as she lies next to him and catches her breath, nor ready for it to be over quite yet.

So for the first time, she calls work and tells them something didn’t sit right at lunch, that she’s too ill to return, but please forward all calls to her cell phone and if anyone should ring, tell them she will get back to them.

Mary Margaret is going to suspect something now, for sure. But that is a problem for another day.

Robin, well, it was his last day, and he had been given off at noon anyway.

For the next four hours until she has to go home, she’s with him in every way imaginable.

Over and Over.

He’s insatiable and has the refractory period of a teenager now, he’s able to come _three_ times in four hours, which she’d think was impossible, but then she’s come five herself, she aches in the best of ways, her body is vibrating with pleasure, satisfied and totally spent.

“I love you,” he whispers, in a way he’s said so many times before, and she’s never reciprocated the words, but he knows how she feels, has to.

“I love you, too,” she mumbles into his neck. His arms wrap around her tight, and she hears his wet chuckle as they cling to one another.

“You didn’t have to say it. I never meant you to feel pressured to say it back,” he says in a shaky breath.

She peers up at him and looks at him with a smile. “Robin, I wanted to say it. Because it’s true. I never felt pressured.”

He nods and holds her tighter.

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to keep on going after you leave,” she sighs. There’s only a week left, and then he’s gone forever.

“I should have begged you to come back to me all those years ago,” he sighs.

“Roland,” Regina whispers, reminding him that no, no, that boy only exists because they broke up.

“Right,” he sighs.

“I wish you could stay,” she admits, trying to not get choked up. But she’s thinking about him leaving, and is this the last time he will ever hold her? It’s all too horrible.

Too horrible to accept.

“I know it’s— I just have to ask one last time. Beg, even. Stay, please. You can find a job, you can… you haven’t bought a home, it’s just a rental. Lose the deposit. I’ll take it all back,” she sniffs, wipes at a tear. “I won’t as much as touch you again in any way than a friend would. You can stay, Robin, I’m sure you can find a better job here!”

“I could,” he admits, as he scratches at her scalp. “But that’s not why I’m leaving.”

“Because of me?” she asks, her voice shaky and heavy with tears, because he’s told her he can’t do this anymore, and isn’t that it.

“No,” he sighs. “I’m leaving for Marian.”

She lets loose a bitter, wracked sob. “That’s even worse,” she sighs.

“It’s not like that,” he insists. “You don’t understand, I just… I can’t explain it without feeling like I’m betraying her trust. I might not love her like I should, but I _love_ her the way I would a very dear friend, and the reasons I have to leave involve something I swore to her I’d never share. But she’s going through a hard time, Regina. She needs to be close to family.”

“So let her,” Regina grumbles, before catching herself. It’s so rude and cruel to be asking him to sit idly by as his wife leaves him. “Sorry!” she corrects, “I’m sorry, Robin, that was unfair of me.”

It’s his turn to remind Regina. “Roland,” he says. “My son deserves both parents. Both parents, happy and healthy and present.”

Regina nods, wiping at a tear.

She gets a look at Robin, and his eyes are wet and red as well.

She’s glad she’s not the only one falling to pieces.

“It’s still hard to hear that you’re leaving me because it’s best for Marian,” she admits bitterly. “I shouldn’t be jealous, but—”

“It’s for Roland,” Robin reminds, “Otherwise things would be quite different.”

She nods in understanding. Graham is a part of Henry’s life, she is loath to end their arrangement and end that relationship.

But Henry also has Robin. He’s the boy’s godfather, his mentor and _they_ shouldn’t be apart either.

It’s a mess. He’s been sewn into the fabric of their lives and she’s going to feel every stitch pop as he rips himself out.

.::.

She thinks she’s going to break down into tears when she sees Robin pull Henry aside. When they go for a walk, just the two of them, and they both come back in tears.

She thinks she will cry when Roland, who has clung tightly to her all day, asks if she can come with them to Vermont.

He insists he will miss her apple turnovers, that his momma doesn’t know how to play the games they do, he cries and begs her not to leave.

She soothes him, keeps it together, as she should, for that last day they have together before Robin leaves.

Until Roland has to say goodbye to Henry, that is.

“Come on, buddy, it’s okay, it’s time to say goodbye.”

Robin looks like an absolute wreck. He’s been crying, Henry, too, but they are both putting on a good face for Roland.

Regina hopes she is, too, but the tears are threatening to spill.

Marian and Graham seemed to understand, they both have mentioned how much they will miss their get togethers, and both joke with one another that this may be harder on Robin and Regina than it is on the kids.

She would have thought that was true, but…

She looks down at little Roland’s sniffling red face and Henry’s solemn little pout and knows it won’t be easy on their kids, not at all.

“But it’s not _fair,”_ Roland sobs. “Trick or treat is next week. Why can’t I stay with Henry ‘til trick-or-treat?

“Roland,” Henry has been encouraged to be the big kid here, to comfort Roland, at least it’s what she asked him, and she knows Robin probably asked the same. Her little boy is not so little today, he tries, and he takes the job seriously, puffing up his chest and tilting his head the way Regina does when she’s in comfort mode. “It will be fun to trick or treat with your cousins, a big group of kids always get a lot of candy. And maybe you’ll find a nice neighborhood that gives full size candy bars!” Henry tries to smile, but she can tell he’s not happy about this, either.

“No,” Roland shakes his head. “I want to stay _here_ , with you and Regina!”

“I know,” Henry says, looking at Robin for help. “I’m going to miss you, too. But we will see each other for Thanksgiving. And maybe Christmas.”

“No,” Roland shakes his head and runs toward Regina, hugging her tightly. “Regina, tell them I can stay! Tell Mommy and Daddy we can stay! I don’t wanna go!”

“I know you don’t right now, Roland,” she soothes, combing her hand through his curls. “But your new home is going to be so fun! You’ll love it in no time!”

“No,” Roland sobs into her stomach as she feels her heart collapse. “I want my house and my school and my soccer team and my Henry and my Regina and my pool and my friends!”

“Roland, please,” Robin begs, his eyes wet with tears.

“No!” he squeals. “It’s not fair!”

“I know, Roland, I know,” Robin soothes, rubbing his back. “Come on, now, be brave. It’s going to be an adventure.”

Regina shouldn’t, but she pulls him up into her arms, walks back to her porch and sits down on the swing with him on her lap. It’s dusk, now, fading into full dark. When they started their goodbyes after lunch the sun was just setting, it was beautiful out. And now it’s growing darker and more miserable.

“Roland, I’m going to see you all the time,” she soothes. “So will Henry.”

“Not every day,” he points out.

“We already don’t see each other every day,” Regina reminds. “But now we can do cool things like talk over Facetime, right? We can chat all the time, maybe you and Henry can have bedtime together. I’ll read the story and you will hear me right through your dad’s phone.”

“We won’t be brothers anymore,” he mutters.

That’s a stab to her heart, and she’s not sure what to say, but Henry, thank god, has an idea. “Lots of brothers live apart, Roland. We can still be brothers. Or… the same type of brothers we were before. Okay?”

“Do you promise?” Roland asks.

Henry nods. “We’ll be like long lost brothers. On a mission! We can write each other letters and you can teach me all about Vermont and I’ll tell you all about what’s happening here in North Carolina! See, it’ll be fun!”

Roland shakes his head. “Not as fun as when we were together,” he mutters, burying his head in Regina’s shoulder.

Henry shrugs, pats Roland on the back and promises him it’ll be okay.

“Go on, say goodbye to Marian,” Regina whispers to Henry. Henry nods and walks to Marian and Robin, who are both standing in the front yard talking to Graham, no doubt giving Regina and Roland their time together.

He settles back on her lap, lingers, doesn’t speak but still holds her tight, wrapping his finger around a lock of her hair.

She can feel him going sleepy, rubbing her back as she swings.

Marian approaches after a while, looking timid and nervous. “Let me take him,” Marian smiles. “He’s exhausted. We have an early morning tomorrow. Our flight is at 8:30.”

Regina nods and lets Marian take Roland, who only protests a bit, snuggles into her neck with a choked sob.

And as Marian walks away with Roland in his arms, as she watches them pack him into the car and drive away, Regina truly breaks down.

By herself, on that porch.

Graham gives her the space, pats her knee as she sits and cries, tells her _I know you’re going to miss them_ and goes inside.

She’s definitely going to miss them, more than anyone could know.

Later, after she has showered and is lying in bed trying to read herself to sleep, Robin texts her. He is making the thirteen hour drive up to Vermont himself with his car and Uhaul with some of the more precious valuables. They will leave the rest for the movers.

Robin should be resting for that drive, not asking if she could meet him for a walk, please, he has to see her again.

Henry is asleep, so she doesn’t have to explain herself to him. She simply tells Graham that Robin has come around to say goodbye before she heads out the door, he grunts and chuckles something about how Robin is being _such a girl_ about this, and she fights the urge to respond with an account of how much of a man he _truly_ is.

October used to be cold at night, but in the last few years, it’s been warmer. Still, she pulls on a long sleeved tee over her camisole and throws on a chunky long cardigan to wear over her flannel pajama pants and throws on a comfortable pair of shoes that might as well be slippers, her hair in a ponytail, messy from lying on it for the past two hours.

This is how he will see her for the last time before he moves away, it seems.

He meets her at the door in sweats and a long sleeve tee shirt, looking and smelling delicious.

“Hey,” he gets out of his car and greets her. “I really want to kiss you right now,” he whispers. “You look so soft, so beautiful…”

And before her heart beats so hard it pops out of her chest, Regina finds her resolve and puts a hand up gently, shaking her head.

“Don’t,” she asks. “It has to end sometime, Robin.” And she hates to say it, it feels awful and wrong, but she adds, “That’s over now. We’re friends. We will always be friends. Just… not any more than best friends. Not anymore.”

“Being best friends is a whole lot,” he tells her. “I can pretend that’s all you are to me, if that’s what you want. I’ve hidden my feelings for you for years. I can do it again. But…” he sighs, squeezing her hand. “Is that really what you want? Ignoring these feelings doesn’t make them go away. I’ve tried that.”

“Me, too,” she sighs. “I don’t know what to do, Robin. At least when we were ignoring them we weren’t _acting_ on them. And we can’t keep that up. We agreed on a natural end date. This is that end date.”

He nods solemnly. “I understand. But we won’t be around to tempt each other anymore, soon. And when I visit, it will always be with the family. I can tell you that I love you until I’m blue in the face and soon it won’t matter at all.”

She knows he’s right, so she nods and just says, “Okay, then.”

They walk around the neighborhood and talk, she leans into him as they do, sharing memories, laughing at first, and then, she starts crying as she realizes their time has come to close.

It’s her own neighborhood and her own neighbors that could spot them, but she can’t help but let him kiss her tears away in the dark, let’s her lead him to the abandoned, wooded area on the far end of the neighborhood.

She lets him kiss her against a tree, both their tears mixing against each other’s cheek as they kiss and touch, seeking affirmation that they still feel the same, will always, even if they can’t act on it after this.

It’s not about lust or desire, not about seeking pleasure as much as comfort, expressing love.

She might have even let him take her, here, against the tree where they could be at least audible to anyone walking by, but it’s not what she wants. She wants him in bed, she wants to lie with him and kiss him and see him as they become joined.

She doesn’t want their last time to be a quiet, dirty fuck that will leave her back scraped and splintered.

So they just kiss, and it’s not enough, but it’s somehow soothing, feeling the way they fit together, the way he _feels_ for her.

He takes her back to her porch, and Graham could be watching or listening, so they keep everything looking platonic as they swing and reminisce.

When they can delay it no more, he leaves, holding her tightly as she sobs in his shoulder.

“I love you,” he whispers in her ear. “I’ll always love you.”

“I love you, too,” she whispers back.

It will be different now, though. They both know it. That little revival, that rekindling passionate bubble they fell into has popped now. That time is gone forever.


	7. Chapter 7

“I do love him,” Regina says as she plops down on Mary Margaret’s couch in resignation.

“I know,” Mary Margaret smiles, “What took you so long?”

“Shut up,” she mutters. “He’s gone now, anyway. I was able to ignore this for years, I’m not sure why I suddenly decided to tear open this wound just when it’s the most painful to do it.”

“Because sometimes its easy to put things off forever when there’s no deadline or event pushing us to do things,” Mary Margaret says wisely. “So you love him. Did you tell him?”

Regina purses her lips. She doesn’t say a thing.

“You told him,” Mary Margaret says with a sly smile.

“He left,” Regina whispers. “It was too late.”

“Did he say that?” Mary Margaret asks. “Did he say I love you back?”

“What does it even matter?” Regina asks. “He left. He’s gone.”

“So he said it back,” Mary Margaret surmises.

“And then he left,” Regina reminds.

“You two have terrible timing,” Mary Margaret agrees. “I”m sorry that this is like every damn romance movie there is, and Hallmark has started ramping up it’s Christmas movies, and—”

“Oh, God, Mary Margaret, please stop comparing this train wreck to a romantic comedy, I beg you,” Regina begs, plopping her head into her lap. 

“Fine, I’ll stop saying my thoughts out loud,” Mary Margaret smiles. “So… what about Graham?”

“I love him too,” Regina says on autopilot.

Mary Margaret just tilts her head.

Regina shakes her head. “It’s… complicated. And I know you think it’s horribly unfair to Graham, but, I care for him a great deal and I’m not running off anywhere with Robin. So I have no reason to leave him, do I?”

“In my experience,” Mary Margaret says softly, “being in love with two people is very rare. Are you in love with Graham?”

Regina chuckles. “My feelings are a mess. But even if I knew I wasn’t in love with him it doesn’t mean we should break up. We’re a family. I have Henry to consider. If Graham and I break up Henry will lose him. Our lives are… pleasant. There’s no reason to do that.”

“Well you’ve certainly thought this out,” Mary Margaret says with a sly smile. “A lot, maybe, I might say, a curious amount.”

Regina groans. “I know.”

“I’m supporting you either way, I just… think you deserve to feel more than ‘pleasant’,” Mary tells her, her voice laced with sympathy. 

Regina shrugs. “Pleasant is more than I had ever hoped for, to be honest. I grew up expecting heartache and hostility.”

“We are so different. I grew up expecting to be plucked from the streets by a literal prince and spending the rest of my days in a castle.”

“Your reality isn’t too far from that,” Regina remarks.

Mary Margaret snickers. “I guess I lucked out.”

Regina gets on her feet with a deep sigh. “I’m sorry I dropped my emotional baggage on you like this without warning. I just needed to say it to someone. And these last few weeks haven’t been easy.”

“You can talk about it whenever you need to,” Mary Margaret says cheerily. “Truly, anything you want, anything that’s on your mind, I’m not here to judge. Only to listen and be a friend.”

And Regina wonders exactly how quickly those sentiments would turn to dust if she recounted everything she’s been doing with Robin for the past few weeks.

“Thanks, Mary,” she sighs. “I’m going to try to get some work done. And please, please don’t tell anyone.”

“I can keep a secret,” Mary Margaret promises.

Regina isn’t so sure that is true, but beggars can’t be choosers, and she needs someone right now. And Mary Margaret might not be a lot of things, but she’s a good and loving friend, and Regina is in need of one of them right now. 

“Thank you, Mary Margaret,” she murmurs, grabbing her hand. “I’m sure things will be fine and return to normal after a few weeks of not seeing him, anyway.

Mary Margaret looks about as convinced at hearing the words as Regina feels saying them.

Oh well. It was worth a shot, anyway.

.::.

_Weeks Later_

“Hello, love,” Robin says cheerfully, picking up the Facetime call on his iPad. He’s in a mint green tee shirt that brings out the aqua in his eyes. Sometimes she can’t believe the color of them are real. It’s late, but his hair is still styled perfectly. She thinks he might be freshening himself up in advance of these bedtime calls (she certainly is). That makes her heart skip a heat, just the thought of himself wanting to look good for her when all she’s doing is reading a bedtime story. “Long time no talk. What has Henry selected to read tonight?”

“For their shared bedtime story, Henry has chosen _Clifford’s Thanksgiving Visit,_ ” she says, taking out the book.

Roland settles in bed as Robin situates the iPad on Roland’s nightstand so she can see him better. 

She reads from the book, careful to show Roland every picture, every page.

By the end of it he’s yawning, his eyelids droopy.

“Goodnight, Roland,” she whispers.

“Night, Regina.”

“Goodnight, Roland,” Henry calls out.

“G’night, Henry!”

Roland really does request a phone call at bedtime almost every night. And Regina is on speaker and Facetime, reading to the boy who isn’t hers, but more than ever, she finds fits in her life very much the way Henry does.

“Mom,” Henry asks, “Is Roland okay?”

“He is,” Robin says through the iPad, and that’s right, they can still hear him. Henry pops a hand over his mouth to hide his chuckle. They watch through the screen as the lights at Robin’s go dark, they hear the click of the door and then he turns on the hallway light.

“Hey, Henry. Roland is just fine. He’s just adjusting. Missing you and North Carolina. But you’ve been very good to him. A great big brother.”

“Well, I miss you guys, too,” Henry says, “But we see each other soon!”

“We do,” Robin confirms. 

“And maybe we can see each other around Christmas?” Henry asks. 

That’s not happening. They simply live too far away to make the holiday trip short notice. But it seems neither parent has it in them to let Henry down. 

Robin shrugs. “Maybe! Let’s talk about the next time we see each other at Thanksgiving, okay?”

“Yeah,” Henry smiles. 

“Now what are _you_ reading?” Robin asks. 

“Addison Cooke and the Treasure of the Incas,” Henry answers, taking out the brightly colored hardcover. “It’s awesome.”

They chat for a bit, Robin laughing as Henry tells him about the plot so far, adding in stories of his friends that remind him of certain characters. 

Regina doesn’t say a word, just lets them have this moment. 

She’s in a daze until she hears Henry ask for her.

“Mom? I’m going to read two chapters like you said I could, right? Then bed.”

“Right,” she nods. “Thanks, Henry, goodnight.”

She leaves his room, carrying her phone in hand, Robin still lingering on the other end.

“Well, hello,” she says as she walks down to the living room and grabs herself a glass of wine, docking her phone so she can see him hands free.

“Hey.” He seems to be peering around her surroundings.

Normally she speaks to him in her bedroom after bedtime, maybe he’s taking in the new surroundings.

“Is Graham around?”

Oh. Right. He’s looking for Graham.

“He has bowling tonight. It’s Thursday,” she reminds, taking a sip of her wine.

“Right. I keep forgetting,” Robin laughs.

“Why are you asking about Graham? Did you want to say hi?” she asks.

“No, Regina. I did not,” he answers in this way that makes it clear he asked hoping Graham was far away.

This also gives her a chance to ask a question she has avoided asking for weeks. Marian is almost never present at bedtime. Marian is never around when Regina calls Robin, or he calls her.

She wonders about it, but she is supposed to be just _friends_ with Robin now, platonic friends and asking about Marian brings up feelings of jealousy and bitterness, and awakens that voice inside her that says that Marian doesn’t appreciate Robin enough, love him enough. And she’s not sure she can keep all of that out of her voice, if it won’t be obvious why she’s brought Marian up.

So she’s avoided the topic of Marian altogether. But now, Robin has asked about Graham, so...

“Is Marian around?” she asks. 

“No,” he smiles. “She is at her sister’s. She’s at her sister’s a lot lately.”

“Oh,” Regina pauses. “Is everything all right?”

“No,” he admits, though he hardly looks upset about it at the moment. “But let’s not talk about it, okay?”

“Okay. Do you want me to distract you?”

“You already distract me several times a day,” he flirts, “But yes, distract me. Tell me about work today. Tell me about a movie you watched. Talk to me about doing the dishes. Anything. Just talk to me. I miss you.”

She chuckles and tries to ignore the pang of worry in her chest, and says, “Well, as you know, it’s November now, and that means it’s time for me to judge all these new Christmas movies.”

“Ah, yes. And what new Christmas romantic comedy has arrived to Netflix way too early to meet your spurn and disapproval?”

She tells him about the most ridiculous one she watched while cleaning up after dinner one night. Some reporter sent to a made up country to interview some very controversial prince who had elaborate Christmas parties, but then her car breaks down, and she’s rescued by this handsome man, British accent, who of course is the prince and not as wild or self absorbed as she’s heard, and the Christmas party raises money for charity, or something. 

Robin adds his sarcastic quips that make her laugh. He takes out a glass of whiskey to complement her glass of wine, and when her review of _The Royal Christmas Scoop_ (ridiculous title, too) is over, he’s left with that goofy little smirk on his face.

“What?” Regina asks, his smile is infectious, and she can’t help returning one of her own.

“You’re just very cute when you are being a movie critic,” he teases.

“Mm, am I?” she draws, taking a sip of wine.

“Mhm,” Robin sighs, chuckles and runs his hands through his hair. “God, you are beautiful.”

She responds with a bitter laugh of her own. “Stop that,” she warns (but hopes he doesn’t listen, she loves these little moments that almost make her heart fall out of her chest). 

“Nah, I can’t stop,” he says with a sigh, his smile so bright, so warm she can feel it from here, across all these wires and signals, radiating out of her phone.

“Robin, I—”

Robin’s head swiftly moves to the right, and Regina stops dead in her tracks. Robin looks worried, seems to be reacting to a noise or sound she cannot hear. 

“I’m sorry, Regina, Marian just got home. I wasn’t expecting her, I have to go — can we talk later?”

“Yes, Robin, that’s fine, of course.”

“I love you,” he whispers, and she says it back.

She’s going to hang up but then she hears and sees the sound of the phone being shoved into Robin’s pocket.

She’s still on speaker phone which is very inconvenient. 

“Robin, you forgot to—”

“Hey, Marian,” she hears from her phone. 

“Why are _you_ so happy?” is Marian’s muffled, biting reply.

Regina should hang up. Absolutely should hang up instead of muting herself and staying on. But she’s curious.

“Marian,” there’s a pause, she can imagine Robin sighing that way he does when he’s frustrated, the way his shoulders hunch and relax before he assumes his normal posture. “Can’t I be happy about anything, even for a moment?”

“Sorry,” she mutters. “It’s just that… I really don’t think you’re hearing me. You’re not taking me seriously.”

“I am,” Robin says quickly, “Marian, you said you needed family support to deal with this and what did I do? I uprooted my entire life—”

“I didn’t ask you to do that!” Marian groans. “I said that _I_ needed to go back home. I didn’t ask you to come!”

“You’re my wife and the mother of my child, Marian. I’m not leaving you. I did all this to help you. But you need to get back into therapy, have you even researched, or found—”

“Do you think all our problems are related to my mental health?” she asks defiantly. “It’s not, Robin. You always want me to work on me, what about us? Did you ever consider going to therapy for _us?”_

“Is that what you want?” Robin asks.

“No! Or yes… maybe I would if you were the one suggesting it. I don’t know. I just know this isn’t working. And I can feel how little you care. You didn’t want another child with me—”

“I didn’t want to treat a new life like the solution to the problem!” she hears Robin’s voice raise. “I know you are happier in pregnancy, I know the whole experience was wonderful for you, but we don’t know if it will happen the next time. And what happens afterwards? Marian, it goes away. Those happy feelings go away and you’re left the same way you were. And we’d have two children then. A new child can’t be seen as a treatment. For our marriage or your mental health.”

Marian is saying something quiet now that Regina can’t hear.

“I know you love him. I know you’d love a new baby. That isn’t the point. It’s just… it was hard last time, Marian, when all those good feelings wore off and you retreated into yourself. It was hard. I don’t know that I could do it again.”

She can’t hear Marian anymore, her voice is faint, but she can pick up on the tone. She’s sad. And her heart goes out to her despite the way Robin is being treated. She is _hurting,_ Regina can feel it. 

“I don’t know how to fix us, Marian, I don’t. But I do love you. And I want you healthy. I will do _whatever_ it takes to help you out of this, I will. And if you truly don’t want me around, I’ll step back. But I’m not abandoning you. If you don’t want me as your husband I’ll stay as your partner and your friend and the father to your child. But give it time, please, we can go to therapy together, I—”

Regina can’t hear anymore, had to hang up. Guilt washes over what she just heard.

She thinks back to Marian over the years and somehow all those memories start to fit together in a new and difficult way.

Marian… sometimes so bright and sunny, others, exhausted and sour. 

Regina thinks of all cancelled plans where just Marian would bow out (never seemed odd, Graham did that a lot, too). She thinks of Roland making jokes about how his mommy sleeps all the time. Regina waved it off as an exhausted overworked mother.

The way Robin cared for Marian, always hovering over her, never wanting her alone. She saw it as love, desperate romantic love, and maybe it was, but he was also caring for her, worrying for her.

She’s not a psychologist and she refuses to diagnose what the problem is or was, but a lot more going on with Marian and their marriage than she knows.

But she can’t bring this up with him. She shouldn’t know any of it, anyway.


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanksgiving Eve_

“When does Robin get here?” Henry asks for the billionth time.

“Henry, I told you, they are flying in tonight and you most likely won’t see them until tomorrow,” Regina placates him. “They didn’t want to leave until Roland finished school today. He didn’t have a half day like you.”

“Okay, but tomorrow is Thanksgiving! I get to stay up late! And Roland will be up, so I should get to wait up, too. It’s only fair.”

Regina doesn’t answer right away, she’s distracted. Graham has the day off today, Graham is on the phone with one of the property managers, and it doesn’t sound good.

“I know, but—” Graham groans. “How the fuck am I going to get there?”

Regina prepares herself, sits down and waits for it.

“Mom, can we—”

“Henry, please just go upstairs and work on your homework for a bit. You have a very busy weekend. We will talk about this later.”

“But Mom, I—”

“Henry, please!” She throws a look over at Graham, and Henry seems to understand.

And that almost makes her feel worse.

“Fine,” he sighs. “But I haven’t seen Robin _forever_ and I just want to stay up a _little_ past my bedtime—”

“You saw Robin a little over a month ago,” Graham scowls as he sits at the dining room table, his hands on his foreheads, rubbing at the temples, “And you talk to him and Roland almost every night. For Christ’s sake, Henry, you’re almost ten, stop acting like—”

“Don’t talk to him that way,” Regina interjects, staring daggers into him. He has no right to parent _her_ child and certainly no right to belittle his grief, he’s lost a major presence in his daily life, someone who intera bterscted and got to know Henry in a way not even Graham did, and he can be as sad as he wants about losing that.

Graham takes a moment, breathes in and out, and nods. “Sorry Henry. I’m just a bit upset about work. Your mom is right; I shouldn’t talk to you like that. I know you miss Roland and Robin. I’m just stressed.”

“It’s okay,” Henry murmurs. “I’ll go work on my paper.”

Regina nods. “Thank you, Henry.”

She doesn’t ask until she hears Henry turn on his music, the standard steady study playlist she helped him make months ago.

“So…” she starts.

“I have to go to fucking Athens Ohio. Now.” Graham huffs.

“Ohio? Regina asks, “But that’s—”

“An eight hour drive? Yeah, I’m aware. And it’s cold as fuck up there, apparently. Pipes burst. Tenants are out of water. And no one else is available right before the holidays—”

“Including _you_ ,” Regina interjects. “ _You_ took today off. You took Thanksgiving off, you don’t —“

“Clyde is going to give me overtime and pay for my entire time travelling back and forth, which is more than generous, considering I have a stake in these properties. I have a share of the income from these apartments, I invested in them. All the bad press and potential lawsuits that will arise from no water on a holiday? It will be a mess. We’ll have to be delivering water to them, too, trying to handle it as best we can. I have to look like we’re compassionate and caring and trying. Otherwise we’ll lose everything. Regina, I _have_ to go.”

Graham was going to help with a lot for turkey day, but… Regina can manage. It’s not like she even minds spending the holidays with Henry alone, but…

She really can’t take an entire weekend with Robin and Marian alone. She can’t. She will be hanging on their every word and dying of jealousy every time Robin yet again falls all over

“Well, when will you be back?” she asks. “It’s almost 2 PM Graham, even if you left right now and didn’t hit any major traffic you wouldn’t be there until —”

“Until about 10 PM. And I’ll have to work straight through the night with the rest of the crew, and then we have to deal with the pipe guy and see why he stiffed us on the insulation. I’m hoping we will all be able to get it all fixed by tomorrow,” he answers. He sighs, rubs his head. “But then… look there’s water damage too, and while Im there I’m going to have to supervise all that being taken care of. I’m just… I won’t be here this weekend. Maybe but Sunday, but… I’m sorry, Regina. It’s out of my hands.”

“Damn it, Graham,” she sighs. “Robin and Marian are going to be here soon.”

“I know! And we’re all ready for them. So you won’t have to spend Thanksgiving alone, okay? I’m sorry. I know you were looking forward to it, but what can I do? Tons of people in an apartment building won’t have running water. And we can’t afford what any other company would cost to drop everything and fix the pipes on the night before Thanksgiving, okay?”

Regina nods. “Fine,” she says, frowning. “Just go now before I worry about you in all that traffic, Graham, the roads are a mess of holiday traffic today.”

He nods, kisses her goodbye and runs upstairs with a duffle bag telling her he filled in Henry as to what’s happening.

He’s out the door in less than fifteen minutes.

Thanksgiving was a tradition for them.

First, it was Robin and Regina, when they were dating, then when they broke up, with mutual friends but still together. And now, with their respective significant others. For years.

But all things must come to an end and she realizes this tradition will absolutely end this year. Graham is out. Robin and Marian have moved. This year will be the last, and they can’t even do it in style.

She should call Robin and Marian and let them know, but…

But she worries if she calls they will call the whole thing off, worry about her not wanting to do that.

And their flight is in a few hours. No sense telling them now.

She’ll see them in a few hours.

.::.

She doesn’t have the heart to fight with Henry about bedtime later that night, so it’s almost 11 PM when Robin knocks, holding a very sleepy Roland in his arms.

When she sees him on her porch, arms full of that beautiful little boy, Regina’s heart knocks hard in her chest, swelling with all the love and warm feelings she shouldn’t be feeling.

“Hey,” Robin smiles, leaning forward to kiss her forehead, since he can’t exactly hug her while carrying Roland.

“Robin!” Henry shouts excitedly.

Regina shoots him a glance and presses a finger to her lips, reminding him to hush.

Roland let’s out a whiny cry and stirs in his arms.

“It’s okay, Roland,” Robin soothes. “We’re here now.”

“Roland I put your favorite minion bedsheets up on the bed,” Regina soothes. “Do you wanna see them?”

“Mm,” Roland yawns and opens his eyes. “Hi, Regina!” He seems to wake now, his arms stretch out to her, and Robin chuckles as he manages to move into Regina’s arms. Oh, he is tired. She feels the way he snuggles into her shoulder for a moment before raising his head to face her, that goofy smile making her heart knock hard.

“We took a plane to get here! And I got to wear my pajamas _the whole time_.”

“Wow,” Regina smiles, ticking the boy. “And such great pajamas they are.”

Henry is hugging Robin now, who is whispering something to him. Henry has missed Robin dearly so she gives them a moment to reconnect.

Her son doesn’t remember it, most likely, but Robin was in his life before Graham. He would help with sleepovers before Emma hit rehab, those sporadic nights when she just _needed_ someone. Regina was there. And Robin was there, too. Helping, loving, caring for them both. Maybe those nights bonded them in a special way, she doesn’t know. What she does know is Henry loves him and needs him in his life more than she realized.

She sets Roland down and lets him walk over to Henry and tell him about the plane. She gives herself only a moment to watch the boys chat before she looks up at Robin and asks, “I assume Marian is getting the bags? I’ll go help her.”

“Momma didn’t come,” Roland interjects.

She raises an eyebrow at Robin.

“What?” She asks. Certainly she was entitled to know that in advance.

And oh fuck, she can’t decide whether it’s infinitely better that they will be without their spouses or much, much worse.

“I’m so sorry,” Robin scratches his head. “It was a last minute emergency. Marian’s sister had an ugly breakup. Marian wanted to spend the holiday with her, under the circumstances. But she insisted Roland and I still go. She just… it only happened hours before the plane ride.”

“You should have told me,” Regina murmurs.

“I know,” Robin sighs. “But it was so hectic, we had to go to the airport, Marian dropped us off, and… I didn’t want to argue with you over whether we should go or not, I’m sorry.”

“Graham’s not here either,” Regina murmurs.

“What?” Robin looks up in surprise… or… horror, even.

He doesn’t trust himself alone with her any more than she with him, it seems.

“Graham is in Ohio because some pipe burst,” Henry tells Robin. “He said he was sorry and he wants us to have fun.”

Robin bites his lip as his eyes dart around the room, as if he’s looking for something to get them out of this.

“Well,” he smiles after a seemingly deafeningly silent pause, “I think if we are to have the _most_ fun, we should get a proper sleep first, yeah?”

He shoots Regina an apologetic look. “I’m going to help Roland get ready for bed. I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Can I stay up?” Henry asks.

“No,” Regina answers with a sternness he knows not to argue with.

“But,” Robin smiles, “You can help me with Roland first, maybe?”

Henry nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, I can help.”

Robin smiles and grabs Roland’s hand. He presses another kiss to Regina’s forehead. “Sorry about Graham,” he whispers. “I will be down in a minute.”

She nods, still a bit shell shocked.

While Robin is upstairs she decides to get their luggage for them. Roland had been wearing his little backpack already, but he also has a duffel. Robin has a backpack and carryon himself, it’s easy to pull those three in on one trip.

She’d have to make two if Marian’s luggage were also there.

Marian.

 _Remember Marian_ , she tells herself.

_Don’t make a mistake._

_Better yet, pretend Marian is in the room with you this whole weekend. Don’t do a thing you wouldn’t right in front of her ._

When she hears him walking down the stairs her heart still picks up. She tries to temper things.

They are friends now. That romantic final act has closed, and…

He turns the corner into the living room, looking far too sweet and unfairly beautiful, and perhaps as pained and conflicted as she is.


	9. Chapter 9

She’s not sure what it is that has her abandoning her warnings, but she practically runs into his arms, holding him tight while his arms wrap around her just as snugly.

She definitely would not hug him this long and this right if Marian were in the room. Absolutely not this tight or this long.

She certainly wouldn’t let her eyes water in Robin’s arms if Marian were there, certainly would not let out a breath that sounds more like a choked sob, and yet, here she is, seeking comfort in him when the reason she needs comforting at all is _because_ of him leaving her.

“So sorry, darling,” Robin whispers.

“These past few weeks have been hard,” Regina whispers into his shoulder, laughing at how childish she sounds, but god, it’s true.

“I know,” he answers, holding her tight and swaying. “I’ve missed you.”

God, how badly she misses him. But if she goes into that she’s not going to have the strength to keep the distance they need to.

He’s warm, smells and feels like him, like home, something familiar and comforting.

She could get lost in this feeling if she not careful. Without Marian and Graham here, things could get carried away.

“You should have told me that Marian wasn’t coming,” she scolds, pulling out of the embrace and trying to get some physical distance from him (she only gets a step or two back, and even that is difficult).

“I’m sorry,” Robin sighs. “It was last minute… I probably would have, if you had told me Graham wasn’t going to be there.”

She laughs at that. Busted. 

“I was afraid if I told you what happened you’d try to convince me to stay up in Vermont. Would you have?”

She smiles and nods. “Yes,” she admits. His face falls a bit, he starts to make offers, saying _If you need us to stay in a hotel_ and she shakes her head. “I would have told you stay with Marian. But I would have hoped you wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Oh,” he smiles, cupping her cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me that Graham had to leave?”

“Because I thought that nothing would change, that Marian would be there, and I was worried you guys would cancel without Graham there,” she admits with a light smile and roll of her eyes at how ridiculous this is. 

“Fate really threw us a curveball,” Robin chuckles. “I swear I didn’t do this just to be alone with you. I know you were quite clear that we are to be friends now. I swear I am not going to try to get you to change your mind on that.”

“Good,” Regina says, her heart stops, the disappointment is palpable, it’s the right decision, and one she was planning to make surely, but…

He’s taken the entire possibility off the table. As he should.

“Come on, beautiful, take a seat on that couch and let me make you hot chocolate,” he instructs, pressing a kiss to her brow. “Put on a ridiculous Christmas movie if you want. I can’t promise I’ll stay up for all of it; I’m exhausted, but I want some time with you, I don’t want to sleep it all away.

She nods and grabs the remote to search for something fun. “Actually… make some popcorn, too. You know where it is.”

“Do you want me to add the peanut m&ms I know you bought yesterday “for Roland” and the pretzels you always keep on the top shelf?” Robin asks.

Regina bites her lip to hide the smile that spreads over her face. He knows her so well.

“You don’t _have_ to—“

“Shh, two hot chocolates and sweet and salty popcorn coming up,” Robin tells her with a wink. 

“Find us something good to watch.”

She’s caught between letting him watch _Die Hard_ and making him watch _White Christmas._ In the end, after a lot of consideration, she decides to forego for Christmas theme entirely when she spots _Can’t Hardly Wait_ on Netflix.

She hears Robin laugh from the kitchen as he sees the movie start. The hot chocolate and popcorn is done, but he’s mixing the other treats into the popcorn bowl. She smiles back at him.

“This brings back memories,” he chuckles. 

“I remember being so enamoured with this movie in middle school,” Regina chuckles. “Every girl wanted to be Jennifer Love Hewitt back the in day.”

“Every guy wanted to be kissing Jennifer Love Hewitt back in the day,” he responds as he sits next to her and wraps an arm around her. “Though… not me.”

“Who was your celebrity crush then back then?” Regina asks, trying to figure out who it could be. 

“Jennifer Lopez, Jessica Biel,” Robin answers with a soft chuckle. “Oh, and Beyonce and Shakira.”

Regina snorts, because they certainly all have something in common.

“What? It was the 90s. I had a thing for musicians. And… teen stars of religious tv shows apparently.”

“You had a thing for _something_ ,” Regina rolls her eyes thinking of what all those people have in common, one specific feature of them that she knows Robin particularly enjoys. “I see a pattern.”

“I was a vain little teenager,” Robin chuckles. 

“With a fondness for women with an ample backside,“ Regina teases.

“Well, I‘ve grown up,” Robin smiles, “though, some things never change.”

“I am aware,” she teases as she watches the flush creep up from his neck to his cheek. 

They shouldn’t be making such jokes, but well, Robin’s appreciation for that physical attribute is quite amusing to her, and if it reminds them both of his _particular_ fondness for her own, well, that’s just collateral damage.

“Do you remember the movie Poison Ivy—“

“Do I ever,” Robin answers and Regina snickers, throws popcorn at him and finishes her sentence.

“What I was asking if you remember the second one doing _so_ well in video rentals and sales, and the theory that was the goal all along, to make a soft core porno with a famous actress.”

“I had rented all three of them before,” Robin smirks. “A successful campaign.”

“You sounded like quite a pervy teenager,” Regina says narrowing her eyes.

“Nah, just a normal boy. Were mostly all like that,” he tells her.

“Robin, Henry is is going to be a teenager in a few years. Amend that.”

Robin chuckles. “Of course, I’m sure he won’t lust after every actress in a thong the way others do,” he winks.

“Thank you,” Regina huffs in a mock sternness. “Now, shh. No talking. Let’s watch the movie.”

.::.

They don’t watch the movie. Conversation flows too easily. Robin makes the next batch of hot chocolate with a splash liquor, and they trade jokes, make a strategy for cooking the turkey.

Regina complains of new, painful heels and Robin offers a foot massage she should turn down, but it sounds nice and truth be told, she misses his touch and any excuse to have it is too tempting to resist.

She thought she was stronger than this, better than this. But he’s right there, smelling and looking so nice, and her body responds the way she wishes it wouldn’t. 

He starts rubbing her calves. He knows from experience they get tight, it’s not an excuse to fondle, she knows that, but as he works out a kink in the left, and his thumbs carries to the insides of her knees, a breath away from her thighs, she can’t help but picture more, want more. And she worries she gives it away, her breathing goes different, the quiet _oh_ she whispers while his fingertips draw higher up her leg.

She knows that little sound gave her away, and from the look of it, he has picked up on where her mind is going. He has that look in his eyes, the one she convinced herself for years didn’t mean what it clearly meant all along.

He’s lusting over her, his eyes are darting to places he knows they can’t linger, he has that look that she’s seen so often before he kisses her senseless, or whispers something dirty in her ear.

She can imagine all of that now, and god how she wants him. Wants to do all sorts of delicious forbidden things back to him.

He turns on the tv after the movie to something mindless, neither of them should be up so late but both don’t want to say goodnight. 

He’s turning her to criminal levels, to where it’s becoming hard to speak correctly, to where the need to be touched more, to ask him to slide those hands further up between her legs and just take care of her is so strong that she can barely breathe.

But she can’t let it win. She has to be good. Has to, but oh god his hands draw over her thighs in a way that is probably innocent but feels so sinful. And she can’t help it, her legs bend and open wider, barely able to bite back a sound of pleasure as he caresses her inner thigh, then swoops back down to her calf.

“You have great legs,” Robin murmurs. He’s complimented them before, several times, many times when they were wearing much less clothes and her legs were wrapped around him. The way he’s saying it, the desire dripping off every syllable, really isn’t helping cool her libido.

“You have great hands,” she sighs before she can realize how fucking inappropriate it is to say that, the implication obvious. He wasn’t trying anything, he wasn’t saying anything inappropriate when he complimented her, but hers is pointed and a bit too honest. She looks up at Robin, who doesn’t look judgmental or upset in the least, perhaps a bit curious. And a lot wanton.

And god, she’s going to make a terrible mistake if she doesn’t — 

“I should get to bed,” she says, clearing her throat and ducking from his eyes. “I have a busy day tomorrow. I have a meal for six to make… though only four are going to be present and I am missing two of my sous chefs.”

“Right,” Robin sighs. “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Regina insists, because he didn’t. The ache between her thighs isn’t his fault, she should have stopped this before she let it go this far, after all.

“I, um, shouldn’t have kept you up this late.”

“No, it’s fine,” she admits, and then, “I didn’t want to say goodnight. I still don’t, but…”

“But we have a busy day tomorrow with our sons,” Robin finishes for her. And she nods, her throat tightening as she says goodnight.

She hears Robin washing up in the guest room as she gets changed. 

It’s ridiculous that she misses him when he’s right down the hall and she will see him in….. Six or so hours.

Ridiculous. 

She takes a shower, does her best to wash off the inappropriate feelings she has for him, tries to let her body just let go of the wanting and the missing and give in to the exhaustion she feels.

She tries not to think about how after these next few days, she has no idea when she will see Robin again.

Tries not to think about it, and fails.

He’s not just her ex-lover, he’s still her best friend. And she craves more of his company, even though she’s exhausted, she cannot sleep thinking about how many hours she has left with him and how little she would like to waste them apart.

She tosses and turns but does not settle.

For whatever reason, Regina decides maybe hearing him, maybe seeing the room he’s in will somehow settle her, remind her that he’s sleeping safe and sound under her roof and she will see him soon.

That is what has her tiptoeing out of bed and down the darkened hall. She only is going to hover over the guest room, see if she can hear his breathing.

But he has the door open a crack, and she can’t help peering in, just to see him sleeping.

That will settle her.

It’s dark in his room, but there’s a ray of moonlight shining through and she catches him, notices he’s awake.

Apparently, he’s been as successful sleeping as she has.

She can catch him looking at her, the shadow of a smile spreading on his face as her own echoes his. 

They both have so much in common, of course they both have had trouble sleeping

Robin chuckles and reaches for the corner of the bedding, lifting it back. 

“Come on, love, you need your rest.”

She lingers in the doorway and fights the smile that widens into a full unashamed grin.

“We shouldn’t,” she says needlessly, she’s not fighting this, there’s no way. But she has to acknowledge the inherent wrongness of all of this, for some reason.

“Maybe not. I’m not suggesting we do anything more than lie next to each other. So we can get good rest. I know how to put you to sleep.”

He does. It’s been years, but he does know how to calm her anxieties, knows how to touch her to soothe her into a deep dream state. He’s so comfortable, warm, and—

“Ok. But just sleep,” she reminds as she closes the door to the bedroom and slides into bed next to him. It’s heaven, the way his arms wrap around her, the little kiss he presses to her brow (he shouldn’t, but it feels so damn good.)

“Having trouble sleeping?” he rasps as he combs his fingers through her hair. She loves that, could easily be lulled into sleep by the light scratches to the scalp, his soothing voice, the way he smells (soap and mint).

“I’ve missed being close to you,” she admits. “Even sleeping next to you. And that doesn’t make sense. I’ve been sleeping without you for years.”

“That’s true, “ Robin sighs, even during their entire affair, they never truly got to sleep together, even the last time, at the hotel, there was cuddling but never _sleep._ “But I intimately remember what it feels like to sleep next to you. Like we just did so yesterday.”

She snots. “Graham says I toss and turn and I know I wake at the smallest noise. I drive him crazy.”

“You do that when your anxious or stressed,” he sighs. “Which is often. But when you’d get settled, you would just,” he urges her onto her side so they are spooning. “You get all warm and soft and just kind of melt into me. It’s half like sleeping with an electric blanket, half sleeping with an oversized teddy bear.”

She laughs a bit, because who would compare her, someone as cold and harsh as she, to some fluffy stuffed animal except Robin?

She is glad he can’t see her face this way, glad his face isn’t in _her_ eyesight, because she’d kiss him for sure.

“I don’t think there’s a single other person on the planet that would compare me to a teddy bear,” she whispers back.

“Not even Henry?” he asks softly.

“No, I don’t think even he would think of me as that soft and innocent.”

“I think he might,” Robin chuckles. “And Roland, too. And as for everyone else on the planet, maybe not. But I don’t give a damn. They don’t know you and your soft gooey center as well as we three do.”

“Hmm,” Regina tries to protest, but he’s stroking up and down her neck, his fingers lost in her hair, and it’s all so soothing.

“There she is,” Robin praises as she snuggles into him. “There you go, go to sleep.”

The weight of her exhaustion is overwhelming now that she feels settled and safe and knows he is the same, and she knows it won’t be long.

“Henry can’t see me here. Set your alarm for 7:30 so I can sneak away.”

“Alright,” he promises, dropping another kiss to her scalp. “Relax love, don’t worry about that. Just sleep.”


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning it’s the soft warm light of the sun that wakes her.

She’s alone in bed, she can hear the sounds of dishes clanking and kids giggling below. 

And she is _very_ much still in the guest bedroom, but Robin is not.

She’s going to kill Robin. And if Henry founds out where she was, she is _really_ going to kill him.

She run into her bedroom and changes into a robe, nearly flying down the stairs.

“Mom!” Henry calls. He and Roland have a bowl of cereal and a shared bowl of berries that they are eating on the coffee table in their PJs.

“Good morning,” she smiles, hoping to god he isn’t about to ask her about why she slept in Robin's room.

“Mom! Did we wake you? Robin said we had to be extra quiet because you needed your sleep so you would be ready to make all the food,” Henry explain.

“Oh, Ii’m, no, I woke up on my own, I…” she stares at Robin harshly. “I had _planned_ to be up early.”, 

“Well, you slept through your alarm,” Robin smiles at her. “So I shut your bedroom door right and told Roland and Henry you needed your sleep and they weren’t go upstairs at all until you had come downstairs.”

Oh. He isn’t forgiven for letting her sleep, but at least her son doesn’t know she slept in the guest room last night.

“Alright, I need helpers,” Regina says, clapping her hands. “Once you’ve finished breakfast, I need people to peel potatoes and onions and help clear the brussel sprouts.”

“Sounds like a job for Henry and Roland,” Robin directs. “I’m going to be, of course, cooking the turkey.”

“You mean throwing the perfectly prepared turkey into the oven and monitoring it?” Regina asks with a smile. She assumes her spot in the kitchen and starts to get the recipe for the mashed potatoes out on her phone. “No, I think I can manage a few other things for you to do. ”

“Worth a shot,” he teases as he bumps his hip against hers. “Now what do I do? besides turning on the parade and setting the table?”

.::.

“Okay, kids, time for dinner!” Robin projects across the house.

She thought that without Graham and Marian they might make it a small, casual affair, but Robin andajd the kids had spent time decorating the dining room table, creating place settings and even a nice, crafty centerpiece and a cutouts of a turkey next to each setting that the boys made by tracing their hands.

Robin’s idea, of course. When she shoved him out of the kitchen he said he would find be preparing a surprise for her with the kids as a thank you for making dinner.

Roland’s little handmade turkey with the words _To Regina, love Roland_ was exactly that. 

It was a cute and welcome surprise. 

“In family tradition, let’s each say one thing we are thankful for this year,” Regina instructs. “Who wants to start?”

“I will!” Roland pipes up. “I’m thankful for planes. They are fun to ride, they have snacks and video games and movies. And they take me home!”

“Oh yes, you will ride a plane home, won’t you?” Regina asks with a smirk.

“No, I already took a plane home,” Roland says, perplexed.

“Home isn’t Vermont to him, yet,” Robin explains with a bite of his lip. “It will be, soon, I’m sure.”

“I’m thankful that I get to see Robin and Roland for Thanksgiving,” Henry says, “and that I’ll get to see them over Christmas break.”

“Henry—”

“I just know I will!” Henry insists.

“I don’t think they can take another trip back so soon,” Regina warns.

“Then we can visit them?” Henry asks.

Regina sighs. “Henry, we can’t. Graham works the weekend before and after Christmas this year.”

“But you have the whole week off! Can’t we—”

“Henry, pick something else to be thankful for,” Regina directs.

He scowls, then mutters something about being thankful for his English teacher, who is helping him learn how to write stories.

“Robin,” Regina directs. “What are you thankful for this year?”

He looks up at her and she just knows he’s asking her, silently, how he can be expected to explain what he’s most thankful for. And he better not say what she thinks he’s thinking. Not in front of children.

“Well it’s been a challenging year, for me. Having to move has been difficult. But I’m grateful for Regina and Henry being such good friends to us. And grateful for every minute I got to spend with you this last year. And I’m thankful for rainstorms,” He bites his lip and looks at Regina. She could kill him right now. She could, but won’t, it would be rude to take away Roland’s dad on thanksgiving, afterall.

“Daddy you are thankful for the _rain?_ ” Roland asks. “That’s silly.”

“Rain is good. It helps things grow, it can give dying things new life,” Robin reminds. 

“It causes floods and can make all sorts of problems for people, too,” Regina says with a hint of annoyance.

“True, but what would life be without rainy days?” Robin says it softly, and she wants to hate him, but she can’t.

“Okay, what are you thankful for?” Henry asks Regina. 

“I’m thankful for the sun and the clarity it brings,” Regina snarks back to Robin, who only can laugh at her antics. 

She’s not really against the rain. Or what happened in the rain. It’s just… they can’t, they shouldn’t dwell, it’s over…

She smiles at him more politely. “I’m thankful I get to spend Thanksgiving with all of you.” she admits.

Robin has that sappy, sweet endearing look on his face and it’s all she can do to tear her eyes away from him so they can act normally.

“Let’s eat, then. Robin, you can cut the turkey.”

It’s a domestic moment. It’s her boys and the man who shouldn’t be hers, but feels like hers, sharing Thanksgiving. And it strikes her that _this_ is how it’s supposed to be. Was always how it was supposed to be, yet she was so cowardly.

“Do I _have_ to try everything? Even the sweet potatoes?” Roland asks, interrupting the sweetness of the mood. 

“Two bites of everything,” Regina reminds. “Remember last year, when you swore you didn’t like brussels sprouts? That turned out well, huh?”

“No, I like brussels!” Roland tells them matter-of-factly..

“You do now. You didn’t last year,” Robin laughs. “Regina worked hard on the sweet potatoes, so we should give them a shot, yeah?”

“Roland look at me,” Henry proclaims, shoving a sweet potato in his face. “See? It’s good.”

“Okay,” Roland says, tentatively trying a bite.

He smiles and takes another, and Regina and Robin do their best not to laugh as he takes _three_ bites.

“But I still think peas are gross,” he warns them.

Fair enough.

.::.

Graham calls just as they are prepping for dessert. 

Besides a text telling her that he arrived, there’s been no contact at all, and Regina finds she didn’t miss it too much. 

“Hey, I worked through the whole damn thanksgiving,” Graham gripes. “I’m sorry. Are you having a good time at least?”

“Yes,” Regina says, balancing the phone between her shoulders as she takes a warming pie out of the oven. “Well, Marian didn’t end up coming, either. So… it’s a rather small get together.”

There’s a pause where Graham says nothing and Regina can’t think to add anything to the conversation. 

And then Graham asks, “So it’s just you and Robin this weekend, huh?”

It’s the first time she’s ever heard him mention Robin in the way that makes him sound remotely threatened or jealous and she’s not sure what to make of it.

“Just me, Robin, Roland and Henry,” she answers cooly. “Because you left us and Marian had something with her sister.”

“Well, this was mostly about the boys seeing each other and you seeing Robin, wasn’t it?” Graham asks, again, a hint of something in his voice she doesn’t exactly like. “So I’m sure your holidays are going great.”

“It was supposed to be about all of us seeing each other,” Regina reminds. “Which didn’t happen, so no, things are not great. But we are making do.”

“Sorry,” Graham mutters, “It’s been a long day, and I’m—”

“Graham, what sort of pie do you want?”

She hears the voice and knows it immediately.

It’s Ruby. She invested in the property too, used to work with Graham until she was promoted and moved to Virginia.

Graham has always had a crush on Ruby, Regina knows that.

She’s also found it increasingly hard to care, since she’s always had feelings for Robin. It just seems like karma.

“What’s Ruby doing in Ohio?” Regina asks curiously. 

“She had to work Thanksgiving, too,” Graham mutters. “We just ordered from Boston Market and I guess she bought a few pies last night from Kroger.”

“Oh,” Regina murmurs. “When will you be home, if you finished already?”

“We still have to meet with the contractors tomorrow over what happened. And I have to meet with an attorney tomorrow because we might be suing for faulty work.”

That could wait, Regina thinks. That could certainly wait til a week or even month after the holidays. But she says nothing.

“Plus I’m dead from that drive. I am going to try to get back on Saturday.”

“Oh, you’ll try?”

“It’s a long drive and I’m completely shot, Regina,” he groans. “Give me a break.”

“That’s fine,” Regina says, and really it is. She doesn’t really want him here, anyway. Not anymore, adn perhaps, if she’s honest, she’s not wanted him the entire time he was gone. 

“Alright, just wanted to make sure everything is going well. I’m going to go eat,” Graham tells her.

“Don’t you want to say hello to Henry?” Regina asks, trying not to sound as pointedly annoyed that he forgot to talk to her son as she is.

She fails, and she can hear Graham’s frustrated groan. “Regina, it’s been a long day and night, can’t you just tell him I wished him a Happy Thanksgiving and that I’ll see him as soon as I can?”

“Of course,” Regina thinks of Ruby Lucas and Graham sharing pie and turkey together, over how anxious he sounds to get back to the pretty young beauty who knows everything about construction… and she really should be jealous, perhaps upset.

She isn’t.

“Tell Ruby I said Happy Thanksgiving,” she tells him. “Have a good night and be sure to be well rested before you come back. I don’t need to worry about you falling asleep on the road.”

“Yes ma’am,” Graham answers, his mood greatly improved. “Wish everyone a happy Thanksgiving for me.”

Regina hangs up, trying not to think about how little it’s mattered that her boyfriend of so many years isn’t here for the holidays. 

He’s all wrapped up in their lives and has no right to be there. She should have ended this years ago, but it was so god damned comfortable, and she’s never wanted to be with anyone else except for the one person that was absolutely off limits…

Life shouldn’t be like this, even so.

But now isn’t the time to be melancholy. It’s supposed to be a happy day full of giving thanks for what they have, not lamenting what Regina doesn’t have, or lost.

“Everything okay?” Robin asks, softly, throwing an arm around her while the kids are in the living room.

“Fine,” she says softly, throwing a glance over her shoulder to make sure Henry can’t hear. “Just heard from Graham. He’s okay. He’s just finished working. He and Ruby Lucas are having dinner.”

She must have said it pointedly, because Robin definitely raises his eyebrows. 

“Yeah, Ruby took that job up in Cleveland after they invested in those apartments, I figured she’d be doing a lot of the work on the place,” Robin nods. His eyes go wide when he sees Regina’s reaction.

“I thought Ruby lived in Virginia,” she mutters.

“I mean, she did,” Robin qualifies, “for like three months, but then she got this new job offer, and it was closer to the apartments. Graham probably never saw fit to mention it. I mean, I only know because her linkedin profile updated, so I reached out to congratulate her, and—-”

“Graham I’m sure found out a different way,” Regina draws knowingly. And Robin, — bless him — opens his mouth to try to assure her otherwise, but she nods his head and makes it clear his words aren’t needed. “It doesn’t bother me. Whatever they are doing, it’s not like I don’t deserve it, for one. And even if I didn’t, it doesn’t matter to me. Let’s just not talk about it.”

Robin nods, then bites his lip. “Just let me say this. Ruby is nothing compared to you, and I truly don’t think Graham is either dumb or blind enough to not see that.”

Regian smirks. He can always cheer her up. “Thank you,” she murmurs.

“Mom, can we watch The Grinch downstairs on the big tv?” Henry asks after dinner.

She knows the day they had and knows the length of the movie. Roland will definitely fall asleep during the movie, Henry is a possibility. 

She looks at Robin. “They should probably put on pajamas and get ready for bed, first but I’m fine with it. But I won’t be the one lugging a child up two flights of stairs.”

Robin frowns, contemplating, until Henry suggests, “We could make it a sleepover downstairs? So you don’t have to wake us?”

And well, Regina has no problem with that. And Robin doesn’t, either.

“We’ll make it a big pajama party. All of us,” Regina says, nodding to Robin.


	11. Chapter 11

Despite the big meal, Regina still makes them popcorn for the movie and brings down a few chocolate items for them to munch on.

Roland feasts on it at first but is asleep before falling into what can only be described as a food coma less than halfway through the movie. She tucks him into Henry’s spare sleeping bag and shoots Robin a knowing glance.

Perhaps she shouldn’t, but she finds herself leaning against Robin’s side for the majority of the movie, pressed against his chest as he draws circles against her arm and presses the occasional kiss to her brow, her scalp.

If Henry notices or finds it odd, he says nothing. Though they’ve always been touchy-feely, so she doubts he would find it odd. He’s not even looking, too absorbed in the movie.

What he doesn’t know, and what Robin doesn’t know, is her mind is wandering to places it shouldn’t, as she presses against his shirt and recalls what he looks like without one. And when he draws in a breath she’s thinking about what he feels like when he’s panting next to her, after they make love or at her side, during, with her back pressed to his front, god she always loved that position to him and she absolutely should not be thinking about this with their sons in the room, but well, Roland is asleep and Henry is trying, but he’s not said a word in minutes and he’s curled up in the loveseat and his eyes might be closed…

“I think Henry is asleep,” she whispers.

Nothing Not a word of protest about how he’s awake.

Robin chuckles.

“Definitely. But let’s sit tight and make sure he doesn’t wake.”

“I’m in no hurry.”

But with both children asleep, things get a bit more comfortable. It borders on inappropriate, the way he rubs her back, the way she sighs and melts into him, the fact that she’s incredibly turned on as his hands rub up her neck and combe their way into her hair, the light scratches of the scalp tingling and teasing and promising that there are far more things they could be doing to relieve itches neither of them want to talk about.

She wants him badly, damn all the rules.

She can’t resist a hearty moan when he foregoes all appearances and starts giving her a scalp massage.

“You always liked being petted,” he teases, his hands running through her hair.

“You always liked petting,” she tries to tease back, but she’s too focused on the pleasure of what should be an innocent touch to be her snarky self.

“You’re so responsive,” he praises, “Of course I like it, when you lean into every touch the way you do.”

She doesn’t answer him, just hums and lets his hands run over her, gives herself permission to think about where those hands might roam if they weren’t both attached to different mates, if they were together, if they used to be.

She lets the wanting and the lust well up inside her but holds it deep inside, delighting in ever touch he gives her.

“The credits are about to end. Henry’s fast asleep,” he murmurs. “Shall we go upstairs now?”

No, she thinks. They should stay here until his arms cramps, he should just massage her scalp and body until the yearning kills her.

But also, more sensibly…

“Yeah,” she murmurs. “Quiet now. Follow me”

She peels herself from his embrace and they tiptoe upstairs, and when Robin goes to sit on the couch, Regina stalks to the liquor cabinet. Some liquor has to take the edge off.

She’s about to make a fool of herself, and if she’s well drunk, it might numb some of the more dangerous feelings she’s experiencing.

“Make mine a double,” he asks, “of whatever you’re making.”

“Whiskey on the rocks,” she tells him, and he just nods.

He’s already got the television up and the Shop Around the Corner loaded up (he knows her well) before she can get to the couch.

“When is Graham getting back?” Robin asks, casually, but she knows he’s wondering when they will have to keep at least a bit more distance between them.

“He said maybe Saturday,” Regina shrugs.

“Maybe?” He asks.

“I don’t… I don’t know what’s going on Robin,” she chuckles. “But I don’t really care, and I definitely don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ok, he nods. “I know the feeling.”

He doesn’t, though. So she’s going to have to elaborate. “Graham just fit into my life so easily. When I adopted Henry, my mother said no one would want a young woman with a child and I just assumed she was right. He did, though. He wanted me _and_ Henry. And he didn’t care to change a single part of my life. It was never really that bad. But it was never good, either. And I have had no desire to date or see what else is out there, so,” she shrugs. “Plus Henry is attached. So, it is what it is.”

“You deserve better,” Robin mutters.

“I'm not so sure about that. You remember what it’s like to be with me. I’m not easy.”

“The hell you aren’t,” Robin looks at her softly. “What happened between us was... it had nothing to do with you being difficult.”

“We fought all the time,” Regina noted.

“We were desperately in love, Regina, and both far too young to handle all those feelings,” Robin argues. “You kept running from it for some reason, and I was too stupid to see that’s what you were doing. You were afraid and I was insecure. But you weren’t difficult to be with. You were wonderful. Every goddamned moment was wonderful, even all the fights. The best time of my life.”

She wants to believe that, but she can’t, truly.

“You told me,” she chuckles bitterly, thinking of that night. “Told me that you couldn’t be with me, that it was too hard, that I was too hard, that we would destroy each other.”

“What the hell did I know? I was a scared, lovesick, kid. I know we were technically adults but it feels like we were children at the time, doesn’t it?”

She nods. “It does.”

“I was too damn scared of losing you altogether. I thought the friendship was easier, more secure, it…” he pauses and shakes his head. “I was too scared of losing you altogether if I pushed too hard. But I should have tried harder.”

“It wouldn't have worked,” Regina murmurs. “At least, not right away. I did run away. I did test you, I did pick fights with you.” she shudders at the memory. “Just to prove to myself that you didn’t really care for me as much as I did for you. You never gave me any indication of that, but… I’ve been filled with poison for years. Stories of how men will break you, ruin your life, how I’m too naive, that I will be eaten alive by the real world.” She shrugs. “It’s your fault, anyway. You were too close to a the fairy tales my mother laughed at.”

“I wasn’t a fairy tale character,” Robin laughs. I was a dick at times. I said things that hurt you. I did things to hurt you. And I didn’t support you when I could tell you needed it. I was immature and drunk on feelings that were much bigger than I could handle at the time.”

“We weren’t ready for all that back then,” Regina says softly. “I definitely wasn’t. Not with the examples of love and marriage I had growing up.. My mother, hell, my parents whole relationship, my past….”

“And that whole awful thing with Mary Margaret’s father. The senator,” Robin notes, and Regina shuts her eyes tight and tries not to think about Leopold Blanchard.

“Yes, him, too… not good experiences,” she murmurs. “Until I had Henry, until he became mine, I don’t think I really understood how to love. I know I didn’t know how to be loved.”

“So our timing was off,” Robin grimaces.

“That’s what Mary Margaret says,” Regina chuckles.

Robin tilts his head. “Mary, really?”

“She’s always thought we should be together. I always disagreed but…. I honestly don’t know why I wasted all those years arguing over something I knew was true deep down inside. I just… I blurted out to her that I loved you. After you left. Just like that. And now she thinks we’re in some 1800s harlequin novel or something, starcrossed forbidden lovers and all that.”

“Did you tell her that we…” he trails off, as if he rethought the question, but it was obvious where he was going.

“I wouldn’t tell her that. It’s not my secret alone to tell.”

Robin nods. “I wouldn’t have minded. I want someone to talk about this with too, sometimes.”

“It’s… not easy, is it?” she asks, leaning against the back of the sofa and facing him. “I don’t know how we were so good for all these years.”

“I wasn’t good,” Robin strokes a finger down her arm, their close now, and its dangerous. “I was a coward. I didn’t want to lose you so I bottled everything up. But I assure you I was pining for you. And how could I not? How could anyone not?”

She snorts. “Robin, I should remind you that there’s a large chance the man I’ve been living with for the past few years might have faked an entire emergency at work so he could drive off in the middle of the night and spend Thanksgiving weekend with the woman _he’s_ been pining over for years. Or he could be delaying his trip home to spend company with her over me. I don’t exactly think you can sell me on being irresistible.”

He shakes his head. “He’s not doing that. I don’t know Graham well, but he never struck me as an idiot. He’d have to risk losing you. You’re so…” Robin sighs. “You’re warm—”

“I’ll remind you my nickname in college was _Ice Queen,_ ” she interrupts.

He shakes his head. “That’s even better. Because you’re tough, you might be cool with some people, but those who try a bit, who get to know you? It’s all an act, and you let your guard down and there’s just this breathtaking, beautiful woman who loves fiercely and protects you, one of the smartest women I’ve ever met, and hands down the most loving. You don’t understand what you have. Being loved by you is…. It’s a drug. It’s intoxicating. A feeling that I’ve been chasing for these last few years.. Trust me. No one is going to give that up without a fight.”

She’s touched beyond words.

Literally beyond words, she has no use for them. Can’t think of a single thing to say, but can think of a few things to do.

Her lips are put to better use claiming his own, and they absolutely shouldn’t be doing this, but fuck it, he loves her and they have precious little time together, but they certainly have tonight.

“Regina,” Robin pants when she finally breaks for air, “I want you so badly, but I don’t want to hurt you or take advantage of you, I didn't say all that to—”

“I know,” Regian assures, stroking his cheek. “I love you, Robin, and you love me and everything is a mess, but we have a bubble here, and fighting it is exhausting. All that matters to me is that _you’re_ not going to regret this, because if any part of you will, we have to stop, because I don’t think I could handle it if you looked at me and wish I hadn’t touched, or if you couldn’t look at me at all?: she can feel the tears welling up and struggles against a cracking voice. “I want to be with you so badly, but please don’t let this ruin our friendship, I need you, in whatever way you’ll have me, please—”

He kisses her, a soft, lingering thing.

“I’ve never regretted a second I’ve spent with you, and I don’t intend to start now,” he tells her solemnly.

“Promise?” She asks. “Because when you got here you said you had no intentions of doing more—”

“I said that for you. Not for me, love, I have been trying to keep my hands to myself this whole trip. For _you_.”

And in this moment, damn everything, she doesn’t care. If he’s okay with it, why should she fight it? They are already burning for this, and the pain of denying herself might be worse than whatever impending guilt she feels.

“And what would you have done if you were thinking of yourself?” she asks.

His eyebrows raise. He’s up off the couch and pulling her into his arms before she can think to say a thing.

She wraps her arms and legs around him and just lets him hold her, her forehead pressed against his.

“Do you want me to show you what I would do if I were being purely selfish? Tonight?”

She bites her lip, and normally she’d tell him they can’t do them all, he _does things_ to her that make it impossible for her to be quiet, and the last twenty-four hours have been foreplay, fuck, she needs this. And the boys are downstairs

“Please be selfish,” she whispers.


	12. Chapter 12

He carries her up the stairs while her arms and legs are still wrapped around her, kissing her as he climbed each and every step.

It’s her house, the one she shares with another man, but now the stairs will forever remind her of Robin kissing her senseless as he carries her up them.

Robin deposits her onto the guest bed and almost growls, undresses her in a fury, the soft flannel of her pants the first to go, her underwear second, and then lastly her shirt (she’s not one for wearing a bra under pajamas,, but she wishes in the moment that she was, if only so she looked a little nicer, a bit more sexy and fun for him).

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he mutters. 

He’s kissing her everywhere, started at her neck and spent plenty of time on her shoulders, and now he’s on her chest, tracing the curve of her breasts with his tongue, working her up to levels she was unprepared for. 

“Robin,” she moans as he draws a pert nipple into his mouth and sucks — god that feels amazing — “Be selfish.”

“I am,” he insists, treating her other breast to the same torturous pleasure, “You don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted to be able to have a full night with you again.”

“Me too,” she moans, “but you do know — _oh_! —- how much I like this.”

He’s not being selfish, no, he’s being giving, his stupid, wonderful, sexy giving self.

“But you clearly don’t remember how much I, _mm_! Love your tits,” he murmurs, his language just dirty enough to make her believe he truly is doing this to him. 

“I do know that,” she sighs, god, how is she still talking? He’s pinching one nipple while the other is in his mouth, and it’s easy to just surrender to the feeling of it and stop thinking at all.

And she only has tonight, so she gets lost under the feeling. He kisses every inch of her body, it feels like, traces up her calves and thighs until she’s a panting, wanting mess, all nerves and lust, and then he’s between her thighs, hungry and skilled, whispering how wet she is as he tests a finger inside, and god, she’s not had sex in… well it’s been since her last fuck with Robin, if she’s being honest.

Damn it, she never wants to fuck a single person who isn’t Robin for the rest of her life, and that will scare her in a second, but not know, not when he’s working her up, and god, she’s missed this. She’s getting close embarrassingly quick, from his dirty words and that one finger inside her, but she can’t help it, the way he thumps at her g-spot and tells her how sexy she is, how much he wants her all the time, he thinks of her when he’s alone, jerks off every time to her, how he can’t stop thinking about her when he’s at work, how he can still remember her taste and smell and craves it like it’s the most delicious thing he’s ever had in his life, and she is so, so glad Henry is two stories away, because she she is vaguely aware of the sounds she’s making, and the volume of them.

“God, Robin, I’m — _mm_!”

“Please,” his voice is tight. “I need to see you come, I’ve pictured it every day we were apart, please, come for me again, god, Regina you’re so tight, so wet, I want to be inside you so bad—”

She nods, hums affirmatively, why isn’t he? She’s about to come apart, she’d be done in a few thrusts, especially with how he knows her body.

“I want to, babe, but I’m already close, just from tasting you, just from feeling you,” he pants, “I need to see you come, need to feel you, savor it, god, I’m so hard, you’re so beautiful, so fucking gorgeous, I could come just from this, mm!”

His free hand readjusts himself, she sees him, and just that, the fact that he actually _is_ so close, and all from giving her this, that’s what does her in.

She lets the feeling swamp her, draw her in until she is pleasure soaked and weighted down with it. 

She fists the bedding and moans, and that’s when he whispers “Gonna do that thing you like,” and then his tongue is on her clit, firm, strong taps add to the deep, pleasure of his finger, and when he adds a second, she feels like she might climb the damn the damn walls if she doesn’t get off.

That’s when it happens, right when she can’t take being on the edge anymore, his fingers hit just right while his tongue is working magic, and the pleasure bursts and swamps her as she cries out his name.

He lies next to her, the scruff of his beard soaked with her, his face red and sweaty, his breathing not overly labored but definitely tense.

He’s holding back for her, she knows, trying to be good, but wanting to take her in this moment. 

“Robin,” she whispers, cupping his cheek, “I want you.”

He nods, his eyes shutting tight before he releases a slow breath. “I might not last long,” he warns.

She nods, urging him on top of her. 

“That’s okay. We have all night.”

He smiles at her and nods. He situates himelt between her legs, braced on bended knee. And then he draws one leg up at his side and thrusts home. 

“Oh, god,” he groans as he fucks into her. “Fuck, Regina, you — _oh Christ_!— feels so good. So tight, so hot,” he punctuates every word with a thrust of his hips. He’s going slow, trying to make it last for her, but she knows, the way his body is tense, the way he’s struggling and almost shaking, that she won’t go again no matter how slow he is.

“Robin,” she murmurs, “I want to be on top.”

He looks unsure, and she can understand why, he’s still entertaining the idea of getting her off again and he won’t have as much control from that position. Still, he follows her lead when she hooks a leg around his waist and spins them.

“Regina,” he whispers, his breathing more labored now. 

“Shhh,” she tells him, grabbing him and stroking him once, twice, watching the way he groans and thrusts into her palm. 

She straddles him, rubs the tip of him over her sex, down through her sex, dipping him into her wetness and delighting in how he reacts to her.

She takes him in, groans and adjust to his size (she’s not had sex in over six weeks, afterall).

And then, when she finds the perfect angle, she gives him a few testing twirls of her hips before gives into the feeling and rides him in earnest.

It’s not gentle, not delicate, she braces her hands on his chest and bounces on him greedily. He’s going to come any second, and she knows that, but that doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy herself.

“Slow down,” he rasps, but she shakes her head. 

“You feel so good, Regina — amazing, really, but I… I’m too close, I won’t last.”

“I know,” She tells him. “I want you to let go for me.”

He rallies, gives a valiant effort, anyway, he’s biting his lip so hard he must taste blood.

And she enjoys the way he feels inside her, enough to wear she gives into the feeling and forgets to watch him seeking his own pleasure, only for a second, and then his hand is where they are joined and his hand is on her clit, and it feels amazing, could easily drive her over the edge in a matter of minutes, but from the looks of the panting, desperate man below her, they don’t have that long.

There’s no sense pretending otherwise, so she might as well make his trip to nirvana a bit quicker.

He likes to hear her talk, so that’s what she’ll do.

“You feel incredible,” she groans, “So good, Robin, I love having you inside me, your — mm! Cock is so—oh god!”” He moans and squeezes her hips, murmurs something like _feel good too,_ but he’s all tense and tight when she wants him to let go. “You’re so thick, fuck… mm— can never, recreate it…” Robin urges her to fuck faster, a whimpered _Christ, Regina_ riling her up. that part is true, sadly, “I think about fucking you all the time,” she pants, taking him harder, and he whines out _me too, god me too_. “Think about, mmm, taking you in the middle of the night, coming in your arms, god, I’ve missed it. Thought about it, mm! All the time we were apart.”

“Oh fuck, Regina,” Robin’s voice is throaty now. “It’s too good, I’m going to, oh god, please don’t stop but I’m going to—”

“I want you to,” she moans, “Come inside me, I want to feel you.”

He lets go with a relieved groan and a series of deep breathes as he releases everything he’s been fighting to keep back, she watches his face in ecstasy as all that pressure, all that delaying and denying, is finally surrendered in the name of pleasure.

He’s entirely out of breath and she’s not much better as she snuggles into his side.

“Give me a minute,” he pants, “Then I’ll finish you.”

“Give yourself sometime to rest,” she murmurs. “We have all night. And tomorrow night, too.”

“We do,” he smiles and draws her close. “Then I won’t rush. But you’re naked and next to me, so don’t be surprised if I’m not trying to seduce you in three minutes.”

She giggles and and lies with her head against Robin’s chest. “I remember, Robin,” she smiles, “I was with you for years, I’m well aware of how easily you get _in the moment_ again.”

“No, my body is just quite responsive to your… Everything,” he tells her seriously. “I’m not like this with all women.”

“Mm,” Regina says skeptically.

“Trust me,” Robin snickers. “This thing I have for you is barely human. It’s practically a super power, or it would be if it were more useful than just… having marathon levels of sex.”

Regina shrugs and winks. “Who says that’s not useful?”


	13. Chapter 13

It is possible to have a sex hangover. That’s what Regina realizes as she first hears the kids up downstairs, talking loudly between Henry’s too-loud “ssh!”’s and warnings that if they aren’t quiet they will _Wake up my mom and dad._

Her limbs are sore, her body aches, her head sort of throbs from the lack of sleep, and all she wants is to have the next three hours under the covers with Robin.

“We should have snuck a shot or two of whiskey into their hot chocolates,” Regina jokes with a moan.

Robin can only laugh. “I think I’m dying,”

“I _know_ I am,” she moans. “I should be up. If Henry walks up here and finds us I won’t have a single explanation.”

“He won’t come up here,” Robin reminds, “haven’t you heard all his emphatic and loud orders that he and Roland keep quiet so Mom can get her sleep?

Regina smirks, then settles a bit. “Still, I should sneak out…”

She doesn’t want to, though, and Robin just smirks as she cuddles into him. 

“Or,” he suggests in a raspy whisper, “you let me lock the door and let me ravish you one more time.”

Oh, that should not sound as good as it does, her body aches, her muscles are throbbing from overuse, her sex is a bit sore from the strong contractions she’s had to excess, her thighs burn from the three times she was on top.

But there’s also a part of her that wants more.

“You have to be quick,” she whispers. 

He’s up with a devilish grin, locking the door.

“And quiet,” she directs. 

Robin nods, and tosses a pillow to her. “Bite down on this to keep quiet,” he tells her. “Because I plan on making you scream again.”

She muffles herself with a pillow as he takes her over the edge _again_ with his tongue and fingers, and she truly can’t believe it’s on him but he is hard and ready for her, begging her to let him take her again, to be one with her, to come inside her _again,_ and this is his _seventh_ round, she’s lost count how many it is for her, she’s exhausted but needy, horny and she absolutely cannot go downstairs this turned on, so what’s another morning cleanup?

She nods, whispers in his ear that she wants him to come inside her, wants him to fill her up, that she loves the way he feels as he comes, and god, he only lasts a few thrusts, but it’s enough to send them both over the edge in short order.

A quickie in every sense of the word, but so satisfying.

“God, we should _not_ have done that,” she whispers when she hears the clinking of plates and the voices of their children.

“Don’t you go regretting things on me,” he teases, kissing down her neck.

“I don’t regret — _mm_! — I just mean it was risky with the kids — Robin! Stop turning me on again!”

He has a nipple in his mouth and is treating it the way he _knows_ gets results and she doesn’t think she could physically go another round even if there were no children.

“All right, let’s put a pin on this,” Robin tells her, shifting his attention back to her lips, then her brow. “Maybe until tonight?”

“I don’t…” She bites her lip. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? Marian, I mean…”

He sighs and nods. “We’ll talk more tonight. Marian and I… well, you must realize things aren’t so good.”

She nods. 

“So, no, I don’t feel guilty. And I can explain more tonight. But you’re still with Graham, Regina. Your feelings on this are equally important.”

“Perhaps if it weren’t incredibly obvious that Graham cares for me as much as I care for him…” she says softly, then shakes her head. “I feel more guilty for my lack of guilt than anything.”

He nods, gives her a peck. “Don’t feel guilty for not feeling guilty. We will talk more tonight. I’m going to make the kids breakfast. Take your time getting ready.”

She takes a long, hot shower until sore muscles loosen, until the residual ache between her legs is manageable, until every physical trace of their night is washed away.

.::.

Regina joins them for breakfast, laughs at Roland and Henry’s antics as they battle for control of the television.

She hates to think about how few moments Henry and Roland will have like this, having sleepovers and acting like brothers. 

God she loves Robin, but she hates him for moving away. It does feel like he split up a family. Even though it’s clear he moved to keep his actual family together, and she doesn’t get to feel upset about that.

It hits her when Roland calls his mother that Regina might not feel guilty for what she’s doing to Graham (a morality flaw, frankly) but she’s absolutely sick over what she might be doing to _Marian._

The boy excitedly tells her about his sleepover with Henry and she feels nervous and ashamed. 

And guilty, so guilty. Whatever is going on with Marian, that little boy loves his mother and she should never hurt her, it will only hurt Roland. 

It’s curious, though, Robin gets on the phone with her and barely exchanges words before he glances at the blackened phone screen and clears his throat. “Okay then,” he sighs. “Marian had to rush off. But she sends her love, Henry.”

“Okay,” Henry smiles. “Can we play on the Wii? Tennis?”

Robin smiles and nods. “Let’s do this. An epic tennis tournament. Who’s first?”

They don’t leave the house the entire day, though they do wander outside to play (American) football and eat leftovers and play games. They are busy, but she isn’t able to fully chase away the smile on Roland’s face as he spoke to his Mommy.

It gives her that guilt, that misery she’s been worried she hasn’t felt yet. It’s almost a relief to feel it.

She gets a text from Graham that Saturday looks less likely, but he will leave first thing Sunday morning.

She wonders if he thinks she’s stupid.

It doesn’t matter, anyway. If it weren’t for Henry, their expiration date would have been years ago. And she doesn’t get to be upset when she’s just had a criminal amount of sex with her ex and best friend. So that’s it.

Thinking of the fact she’s been unfaithful to _him_ still isn’t making her feel horrible, but she will deal with why and what that means later.

She can feel herself becoming more distant with them all, of just smiling and watching the fun, not participating.

She can feel Robin noticing. He’s not asking her if she’s alright (he knows she’s not, anyway) but the glance he gives her opens up a new well of guilt, worried she isn’t enjoying this little weekend before it all disappears.

“Can we have another sleepover?” Henry asks, and Regina can’t decide, because what message does that send? This time if she says yes, is it for him? Or is it because she wants to tuck her child far away so she can go have another sex marathon with her ex?

Maybe the children shouldn’t be so far away. Maybe they should be keeping her from backsliding into sin again.

“I don’t… know. Henry you need your rest,” she murmurs.

“No I don’t! Tomorrow is _Saturday,”_ he argues. 

“And I only have two more sleeps til I go away again,” Roland points out. Damn that kid for learning about time and numbers, he’s breaking her heart.

She watches Henry’s eyes glaze over as he looks at Robin.

“I don’t want you guys to go,” he chokes out, looking down on the floor and if he’s intentionally giving her the puppy dog eyes, well, he’s learned quite a skill because he looks so miserable she would just about give him anything to cheer him up.

“Fine,” Regina sighs. “Pajama Party, round two. Pick your movies and place your orders for your favorite pies, I’ll cut you each a slice.”

“Home alone?” Roland asks hopefully.

“Definitely!” Henry exclaims. Do you know Mom can’t watch the whole movie? She shuts her eyes when the wet bandits get hurt!”

“That iron scene…” she shudders remembering it. “Alright, I’ll suffer through Home Alone for you. And maybe even the second one, if you make it up that long.”

.::.

Henry actually does make it a few minutes into the second Home Alone, but he’s asleep before Trump even makes his appearance, just a bit over twenty minutes into the movie.

Regina has put some space between herself and Robin tonight. She’s still seated next to him but she’s not quite wrapped around him the way she was, and he’s not pressing her to do so. When he is sure Henry is asleep, he taps her knee, nothing sexual. Just platonic.

“You’re upset,” he notes. “What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything,” she whispers. “It’s… I really don’t want to hurt anyone, Robin.”

“Graham,” he sighs. “I’m sorry, Regina, I—”

“No. For whatever reason I’m not worried about his pain. But Marian. Roland’s mother… I don’t know how I’ve been able to convince myself I am not hurting her, but—”

“You aren’t,” he says too emphatically, and she’s perplexed to say the least. “At least, not anymore.”

“We should talk,” he says, motioning to the basement stairs.


	14. Chapter 14

This time when Regina leaves the basement, she heads into the kitchen to make tea instead of walking towards the liquor cabinet.

It feels like that kind of conversation. The kettle is just about to whistle when she finds the strength to ask the question that’s been swimming in her mind.

“How could you say that what we’re doing isn’t going to hurt Marian?”

Robin exhales and sits down at the kitchen table.

“This is really hard. And I fear you’re going to hate me. But you have to know that it is not going to work between us.”

“What do you mean?” Regina asks, her first thought being that Robin is talking about her and whatever they are doing, until he clarifies. 

“Marian did go to her sister’s. And she did cancel at the last minute. But the reason she cancelled was because she didn’t want it to be awkward around you and Graham with us… the way we are.”

“And how are you?” Regina asks.

“Not together,” Robin says with admits. “I keep asking her to make sure it’s what she really wants, but—”

Regina lets out a dry chuckle. “She’s been trying to end it and you’re begging her to stay, huh? What am I, a consolation prize?”

“God no, what we have is not remotely related to the problems I’ve been having in my marriage — have been struggling with for _years_. And me wanting desperately to make sure she’s not pushing me away for the wrong reasons isn’t because I’m in love with her and want to save my marriage. It’s because I want to save _her.”_

“Milk?” Regina asks, and Robin nods. She adds milk to his cup and lets the teabags steep in the teapot, bringing his cup of milk over along with the pot, and then getting her own. 

“What do you mean save her?” Regina asks.

She can tell he’s struggling. “She doesn’t want anyone to know,” he explains. “I’ve had to keep this secret for years.”

“Is she ill?” Regina asks softly, thinking of their conversation, of what she heard, hoping it’s not as serious as she suspects.

But Robin nods. “It’s not physical. It’s mental — not that she’s a basketcase. She just has moments where she’s not herself. And those moments aren’t always pleasant. For her or for me.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Regina asks softly.

“Have you noticed, though, that she has moments where she’s so exceedingly happy, and others where she’s… not?”

Regina nods slowly. “Roland talks about how sometimes she needs to sleep a lot. But all mothers do, I never thought it was strange.”

“It’s more than just exhaustion,” Robin admits. “She had a hard time after the pregnancy. I thought it was normal exhaustion stuff. But when Roland was an infant, I got home from work one day and she was on the roof…” he pauses, putting his head in his hands. “There were episodes before, but nothing that bad. And you remember how wonderful she was while pregnant. But then after Roland was born, something wasn’t right. And then she was in a nightgown, holding the baby up there and….” his voice shakes. “I got her down. Roland was cold, but he was unharmed. I took her to the hospital, and she got treatment. Quietly. Didn’t tell anyone about Roland being up there. But remember when I said she was so ill after Roland, I said that thing about her gallbladder, right? That’s why she was on bedrest, why you practically moved on helping with Roland when he was, what? How old?”

“Four months,” she murmurs. “I remember. 

“It wasn’t her gallbladder,” Robin sighs. “She was so embarrassed over what it was. Post-partum depression, they said. She had it bad. And then she seemed to recover. Everything was great, except her mood got sour a few months later, and she was pushing me away, pushing Roland away, telling me to spend more time with my friends, to take Roland with me, practically taunting me into leaving her, and I realized she wanted this. She wanted to be alone, and I worried she wanted to do something self destructive.”

A tear rolls down her face and she realizes she has tears in her own.

“I got her into an outpatient facility. They worked on her, found the right drugs, and, that time, they diagnosed her. Not just post-partum, but severe depressive episodes. And when she undergoes them, she self-sabotages. And she can be hurtful to others.”

“So when she pushes you away, you worry she’s only doing it because she’s having another episode.”

He nods. “It’s been years, there’s never been another incident, but I’m still scared to this day. So when she told me she was thinking of leaving, of going to Vermont—”

“She told you she was going to leave you?” Regina asks incredulously. “Just take Roland and—”

“Not Roland,” Robin says, swallowing thickly. “Not with her history. She couldn’t take Roland. She knows I couldn’t allow that. I love her, I trust she _wants_ the best for him, but I don’t trust that illness. So she told me she would leave him, too, of course. But I couldn’t do that to him, leave him wondering why his Mommy could just leave him, and why his Dad let her go.”

“So that medication doesn’t work any more?” Regina asks.

“She could be better about taking it,” Robin mutters. “But they need to switch her a lot. Sometimes it stops working and the dose needs to be corrected or changed… it’s complicated. In any case, you know we got married when I found out she was pregnant. We weren’t in love like we should. So I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when she started saying that she wasn’t happy with me and wanted to leave. But… if I just let her go, and she ended up on another roof…”

He bites his lip. “I had to be sure that she was okay. For Roland’s sake, too.”

“How could you… be with me?” she asks, almost disgusted. “If you really love her so much and think she’s so fragile, we are risking hurting her terribly. And—”

“She had asked me for a divorce,” Robin blurts out. He groans. “God, you must be so pissed at me, because none of this makes sense, I admit it. She asked me for one before I told you how I felt, when she said she wsas going to leave. I tried to save our marriage, for Roland’s sake. I was scared if she left us, she’d end up abandoning him..”

“So you fought for her,” Regina murmurs, trying not to feel jealous.

“We haven’t slept together in over two years,” he admits with a groan. “We have stayed together for Rolalnd, but it wasn’t… that type of marriage anymore. When she said we should end it and go our separate ways, I’d ask her to stay, and try and work on us. And until then, just be roommates if that’s what she wanted. It was hard. I wanted to move with her because I wanted to take care of her and yes, I always want to be around her when she’s with Roland — for my own peace of mind, I don’t want to be states away while she has him. I mean, can you blame me for that?”

“Of course not,” Regina murmurs. “And I will keep your secret, Robin, and I feel for her, but she cannot hurt that boy. If I so much as see anything that sounds or looks suspicious, I—”

“And I would completely support you, but you have to know that she’s had a team of therapists and counselors, and she won’t harm him.”

Regina nods. “Good.”

“Marian says she doesn’t want to be with me anymore. Perhaps she cares for me as a friend, and I love her as one, but the relationship isn’t making her happy. When I agreed to move to Vermont, it was so she could get help and support from her family, and she could see Roland under my supervision whenever she wanted. And I said I wanted to give the marriage one last go, that we not give up, but… she was harder to sell on that. I didn’t want another child with her, and to her that was all she needed to know about my feelings. If I didn’t want that, someone who always wanted many children, she argued, I didn’t really want to be with her. And maybe she was right. I tried resisting, but the truth is I gave up the moment I kissed you in the rain. She had been entertaining me until then, I suppose. But she gave up on us long ago.”

He pours himself a cup of tea and shuts his eyes.

“The counselor said it a few weeks ago. I can't blame everything on her illness especially since she’s had no serious episodes. She has moods, but they are manageable. They aren’t dangerous. And she’s better now — she has days where she just wants to sleep, times when she’s grumpy or even mean, but some of it is from feeling trapped. Her indifference to our marriage isn’t just her illness speaking. It’s…. There’s every indication that she doesn’t want to stay married. And she’s getting better, truly this time. Except our marriage is hindering her, it seems. She doesn’t want me, she loves me, as a friend, but the way I love her has gotten oppressive to her apparently. It’s hurting her progress. She just wants to be free without me hovering. She wants it over.”

“Would have been good to know this before you uprooted your whole life,” Regina gripes.

“I had to move, Regina. I never want Roland to know about this. I never want him to think that I kept him from her, or that she didn’t love him. Do you understand that?”

Regina nods. 

“Everything I told you, you should know I swore to Marian I wouldn’t tell a soul, and specifically promised, _Not even Regina_. But you deserve to know. Just… if you tell anyone, it would crush her. And if Roland finds out…”

“He won’t,” she puts her hand on his. “But Robin, you didn’t have to keep this secret from me all these years. This is quite a load to carry on your own. I could have helped.”

“I wanted to confide in you so many times over the years,” he admits. “But saying a word about her that was anything less than positive seemed like such a betrayal. Especially since I was— am— so absurdly in love with you. So I kept it from you, but… look, you should know I wouldn’t have survived without you these last few years. Marian and I struggled, and you, you’ve been everything to Roland and I. You’ve been there for him when Marian couldn’t. You’ve been,” tears flow, his voice cracks as he smooths a hand through his hair. “You’ve been a mother to him when she couldn’t be one.”

“Then why did you take him away from me?” Regina finally says, because it has been bothering her, fuck if it its unfair. “Why couldn’t one of Marian’s relatives move down here? Why couldn't you let her move up there for a while and sort it out, she’d move back down when she missed Roland. I was there for him when she wasn’t. And you’ve always been there for Henry. But you didn’t as much as consider us when you made the choice to move.”

“Oh, I considered,” Robin tells her, “I lost sleep over this, I dreaded this, I prayed I wouldn’t get jobs in Vermont just to make the decision easier. Because I didn't want to leave you. But I thought Marian needed me there and I was just too scared, okay? But now… I fucked it all up. I’m so sorry, Regina. I don’t want you to feel that I didn’t see you as my family, I did, it hurt just as much as I’m sure a divorce would, leaving you and leaving Henry.”

“He misses you,” Regina says, wiping at a tear. “He’s cried over missing you.”

“I know. I’ve missed him, too. I swear I’m going to try to make this right, okay?”

Regina nods. 

“You and Graham, are you—”

“I don’t know,” she whispers. “But I think that’s something I need to figure out on my own. I just need to think. And talk to him.”

She feels the same as Robin in that she needs to talk to someone who isn’t him. 

And she has that person, sweet, innocent Mary Margaret who insisted on making a lunch date so she could hear all about Regina’s Thanksgiving.

Lord, even if she tells a fifth of the truth, the woman is going to be overloaded on gossip.

“Do you regret last night?” his voice breaking as he dares to ask. “And all the nights. I mean, I’d understand. Now, knowing what you do about everything… I am so sorry, Regina.”

“I’m not sure what this says about me, but no, I don’t regret it,” she admits the words that will definitely send her to hell, if one exists. “I love you, Robin, and as for last night, apparently, you’re single, aren’t you?”

He bites his lip as if he’s truly wondering if he is. “She ended it. The papers aren’t filed but—”

He sighs. “Yes, yes, I’m no longer with anyone.”

“But I am,” Regina points out. “It puts us on uneven ground. You’re free, but I’m the one still cheating.”

“So you’re clean,” Regina says, envious of his position.

“I owe Graham more than this,” Robin argues, “it’s absolutely on both of us, my relationship status doesn’t change a damn thing.”

“Maybe,” Regina sighs. “In any case, Marian would probably still be devastated to know about us, wouldn’t she?”

Robin pauses, then nods. “She would, I think. If only because she was so terribly jealous of our friendship when she first started dating.”

“Maybe we’re on more even ground again,” Regina sighs. “But… this is important, but this talk was…. A lot. Emotionally. I want to… can we just put a pin on this and watch something mindless that isn’t going to make me want to rip my heart out?”

“Sure,” Robin chuckles. “Let me find something. “


	15. Chapter 15

They settle on watching Christmas episodes of television shows on Netflix. And Regina is on the other side of the couch, still stewing over feelings, trying to work out what happened.

She definitely should have been told what has happened over the years.

But she also can’t blame Robin for keeping it a secret, Marian wanted it that way.

And yet, if he was going to kiss her and confess his undying love for her, he fucking should have trusted her enough to tell her. 

She thinks of how lonely it’s been just keeping the secret of their affair and the secrets of the feelings she’s harbored for Robin for so many years. He’s had all that and so much more. It must have been awful. Must have been awful to be with a woman who didn’t want to be with him, to care for her like he would a companion, not a wife. To sit there attached and platonic and pining for Regina.

It had to be unspeakably hard. And she’s angry he dragged her into this, but she was anything but an unknowing victim.

So perhaps she’s angry at herself and is misdirecting a bit.

And the truth is, he’s leaving soon, and she has no idea when he will be back, so…

She scoots to the other end of the couch and curls up into him. “I’m still mad at you,” she murmurs.

“I’m mad at me, too,” he sighs “Thank you for not kicking me out.”

“That wouldn’t be fair to Roland,” Regina smirks.

“‘True. I’m lucky to have him, aren’t I?”

“Exceedingly so,” Regina murmurs. And then, fuck it, they don’t have much time left and he really looks like he’s in agony. She can work through this anger later, but right now there’s only a few moments with him left and she doesn’t have the energy.

She kisses him, a light peck on his lips, and smiles. “I’m not going to waste the rest of my time with you being angry over things we can’t change. I’m not going to do what I would have when we were together. That didn’t get us anywhere but… here again. Six years later.”

He nods. “I should have let her go.”

“You should have,” Regina agrees. 

“If I had let her go, and told you I loved you and that I want to be with you…” he pauses. “Maybe I shouldn’t ask.”

“You shouldn’t,” she agrees.

She would have fought it and turned him down, she realizes. It would have been too complicated and scary to make that move, to take Graham out of Henry’s life, to explain everything to her son, who would be old enough to be worried about why Graham and Marian were gone and his mother was with her best friend. All of those logistics would have scared her, and she would have refused him.

At first, at least.

She didn’t realize how absolutely essential Robin was to her life until he told her he would be leaving it. Robin moving to Vermont, oddly, had made it clear all of that mess would be worth it because the alternative is agonizing misery and replaying every last damn terrible decision she’s made when it comes to Robin over and over.

Yes, she would have uprooted her whole life, caused that mess, done it all to be with Robin.

His moving just brought clarity to things. Made it obvious that being without him was all wrong.

“We can’t change it now,” Regina sighs. “No sense wondering ‘what if’.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again with a grimace. 

“You were in a terrible situation,” Regina admits. “You acted imperfectly. It would have made sense to let her go, or maybe to not let her go and stay committed, and _not_ …. be with me.”

“I know,” Robin admits. “I know, I didn’t plan this. I was just going to tell you how I felt, just because you deserved to know and I was miserable keeping it in, but then I told you, and I… what I felt was too strong to keep bottled up. I was trying to be a good man to Marian, I’ve been trying for years and fighting what I felt every step of the way. And then I just crumbled, but it felt so good to just… to stop pretending for a little while.”

“I understands,” Regina pats him on the chest. “But it’s over now. There’s a lot of things I would have done differently, too.”

He nods. “Thank you, for being kind with me about all this. And for listening.”

“I’m always going to be here,” she tells him.

And she means it.

.::.

She shouldn’t, because there’s still residual anger at Robin and disgust at herself for participating in an affair that could have hurt Marian — had she ever found out. But Robin looks miserable and she knows he feels guilty for the way he’s handled this.

So when it’s time, when she says she ought to go to sleep, he kisses her forehead and thanks her again, mumbles another apology he needn’t.

So she takes his hand and asks, is he coming up with her?

It’s not about passion and pent up lust, it’s finding comfort in each other, holding each other, pretending this mess that they’ve gotten themselves into isn’t as complicated as it is.

And in the middle of the night, when she wakes and realizes he might have never gone to sleep, a kiss leads to more, and they come together, again, and maybe they shouldn’t, but it feels too damn good to stop it, much too comforting, safe, and right.

.::.

On Saturday, they decorate the tree. 

It’s a tradition, and Henry insists, though Regina reminds that it’s normally an activity they do with Graham.

“He doesn’t even like it! He says it’s too messy!” Henry argues. “Let’s do it now, Mom! Roland can put up the Mickey ornaments! Those are his favorite!”

“Mickey?!” Roland asks, standing up and looking at Regina with those adorable, pleading her.

“Yes, we have lots of Mickey,” she smiles at Robin. “Do you mind getting everything from the basement?”

“Of course not,” He tells her.

Regina turns on _The Night Before Christmas_ and they decorate together. It’s perfect and a terrible reminder that they fit perfectly as a family, and yet…

“Roland can put on the star this time,” Henry says decisively, as he holds the delicate tree-topper he’s been extremely possessive of since he was in preschool.

“Henry,” Regina says, her hand on her heart, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. the youngest should put on the star,” he recounts Regina’s words, the ones that secure his place in the tree-topping ceremony each year.

“Henry, it means the youngest in the family, and—”

“And Roland is my brother!” he insists. “So he gets to put it up, right?”

Robin is already half moved to tears and Regina isn’t faring any better. Henry has been putting the star on the tree since before he was even adopted, it was a ritual to make it clear he was family to her, and him passing it down to Roland is… symbolic in ways Henry probably didn’t mean them to be.

It’s all too easy, playing house for the weekend. Pretending to be a family.

But tomorrow the bubble pops, tomorrow Robin and Roland get on a flight and leave them. 

And Regina feels that impending dread knocking at the door, just a breath behind each cozy memory they make.

The boys ask to camp out in the backyard Saturday night, and the girl in Regina, the one who grew up in Maine, would say that fifty degrees isn’t too cold, and yet, who knows what the temperature could drop to overnight? And Roland is simply too young for her to let sleep even right outside her window without worrying sick over him.

So she compromises with them, and they roast marshmallows in the fire pit outside and tell ghost stories before retreating into the basement, where Robin has put up the large tent, and placed both sleeping bags under it. Regina strings a set of christmas lights on the ceiling (“sleeping under the stars” she tells them). And then she kisses them each goodnight, holding Roland extra tight, hoping to make it last until the next time she gets to see him (whenever that will be).

She gets a text from Graham. He drove halfway home and decided to stop, but he will be back Sunday afternoon. He sends Robin an apology text, in case he doesn’t get there in time to send him off.

Robin chuckles as he shows her, and Regina just rolls her eyes. “Tell him we’ve found ways to amuse ourselves without him.”

Robin’s eyes wide and his brow lifts the obvious joke. “Oh is that where we are? Thank god we can laugh about it now.”

“We shouldn’t. But Graham has really been an ass this weekend, and I’m starting to realize he might have been so for even longer, so…” she shrugs. “Whatever, I’m already going to hell.”

Robin chuckles. “At least we’ll have each other for company.”

“I’ll save you a place in the fire pit,” she deadpans.

“God, I love you,” he murmurs. 

“I love you, too,” she murmurs. “I can’t believe I have to say goodbye to you tomorrow.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I don’t want to think about it right now.”

Regina nods and heads to grabs a bottle of wine. “Want to distract each other?”


	16. Chapter 16

Two bottles of wine.

Two bottles of wine and a handful of cheese and crackers. And lots of trip down memory lane.

She is well drunk, the anger at herself and him for handling this situation so terribly is filled with liquor, the impending sense of doom at the hours left together all but a dull ache now.

They are laughing at themselves, how ridiculous they were when young and in love. At their antics, the passionate times in their youth when they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, when he faked illnesses just to get out of social events to spend a few more hours in bed. Trips they took together, including an absurdly budget friendly trip to Europe where they spent two weeks traveling from city to city, staying at an assortment of crappy hotels, many with communal bathrooms and some with curfews that they broke.

That trip was a mess in so many ways. They fought over time tables and missed trains, a cheap meal Robin insisted was safe ended up making it so neither of them could be too far from a toilet for the next twenty four hours, but… all in all. 

It was wonderful. And the memories they made together were some of the best in her single life. It didn’t matter that that they were in a tiny room sharing a tiny bed and a threadbare mattress in a farmhouse with a strict Greek family, they had perfect views of the sea, they had wine bottles and ouzo on the beach, they made love loudly on squeaky springs and ducked to avoid the judgmental glare of their host in the morning while having bread, yogurt and coffee.

It was a carefree time, one of the first times she had attempted to do something without her mother’s approval or money, and definitely the furthest, biggest trip she did. It opened the floodgates in making choices that her mother disapproved of, and that’s how she had the courage to fight for Henry, it’s why she didn’t marry some old politician, it’s how she stayed friends with Robin despite her mother’s insistence a breakup should mean a clean break forever.

Everything started with that trip, it made her feel truly alive and Robin was there for every part of it.

It’s crazy really, the role he’s played in her life. Without really ever pushing or trying to influence her, he just… helped her realize who she truly was. 

And just as she’s thinking she owes him an unspeakable debt, he tells her the same.

“I don’t think I’d be the man I am without you,” he smiles. “Definitely not the father I am. I’m so fucking thankful to have you in my life, you have no idea.”

“I’m thankful for you, too. And all the help you’ve given me over the years, and you helping me raise Henry…” She shakes her head. “You were amazing. Are amazing. Probably the biggest positive influence I’ve had in my whole life.”

“Really?” Robin asks.

She nods. “I mean, who would have gotten me to swim in the Ionian Sea in the nude,” she teases.

“Not the best decision. Way more early morning tourists than I had calculated. And quite a bit of rocks,” Robin teases. 

“But it was fun,” Regina winks.

“It was,” Robin agrees. “Still the only time I’ve had sex in a body of water.”

“It wasn’t really easy, but you were very dedicated.”

“You were very naked, and very pretty,” Robin notes. “And your tits looks amazing in the water, what can I say.”

“Too bad there’s no ocean here,” she teases.

“Your tits still look amazing,” he says, cringing as if he realizes it was a bit too forward. “Sorry, but I had to.”

“I don’t mind,” she tells him, leaning forward to kiss his ear. And she whispers in it, “we may not have a sea, but we do have a bed.”

He smiles and gets off the couch, pulling her into his arms. “Much better than the sea, provided you are also willing to go naked.”

The liquor in her system makes this funnier than it should be, and she laughs, nods and tells him she will get very naked for him tonight.

It’s a bit difficult when they enter the room, seeing Robin’s suitcase already packed, only his clothes for the next day laid out, but she tries to erase the sight of it from her memory as he presses her into the bed, as they strip each other. He’s finally able to chase the sense of dread out of her when he goes down on her, his tongue doing delicious and sinful things that have her forgetting all her worries forever.

He brings her up and over, and when she’s able to breathe, she starts to repay the favor and starts sucking his cock.

“Regina, love — ohh, that’s good, yes, that’s...fuck, that’s so, so, good, but — I! Mm! I’m going to come if you don’t slow down, fuck,” 

She looks up to find him biting his lip, his face already red from just a few bobs of her head and well-placed passes of her tongue worked him up like this.

“Really?” she asks, not being able to help herself, licking down his shaft again, all the way down over the hardened marbles that his balls now are, “even with all you’ve had to drink?”

He chuckles embarrassedly and runs his hand through her hair. “I don’t last long with this, with you. You’re very good at it… and, um, I’ve not really had it before we started things up again.”

“How long?” Regina asks, torturing him again, this time, she just traces the muscles of his abs with her tongue.

“Last time that wasn’t with you was bef—orre! Oh, before Roland was born,” Robin admits.

She looks up at him in pity. Well that explains the way he reacts to a little bit of dick sucking.

It seems horribly unfair that he’s so deprived. If she hadn’t oral sex in four years she’d be climbing the walls, and from the way he’s fisting the comforter, he looks like he’s fighting the urge to do exactly that.

She wants to make it good for him. 

“You definitely need this. Lie back. Enjoy it,” she tells him.

“But I — mm! I want to be inside you tonight, and I won’t last—”

“I am fairly certain that we both know you can go again,” she whispers, and this time she corkscrews her tongue around his shaft as she sucks him, the moaning sound he makes too sexy and desperate for words. 

“Let me take care of you,” she whispers, and he’s trying to fight it, but she can tell, the odd jerk of his hips and thrust into her mouth, the way he sighs and curses and tells her how amazing it feels, that he wants this, wants to let it happen.

“I won’t last,” he huffs, already out of breath from fighting this.

“That’s okay,” she tells him, “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

He chuckles. “You should, you’re — oh fuck, Regina, mm, love, oh god, when you suck like that, it’s just— Christ! You’re so fucking good at this, I… slow down love, please, I want to enjoy, but, too— too close.”

She takes pity on him and slows down. She knows how to work him up and over, and could easily do it in a matter of seconds, with how close he is now, but she wants to make it last now, for him.

So she varies the long, strong sucks with gentle tapes and swirls of the tongue, right where he needs her, but not with enough pressure to make him explode. She pauses, turns her attention to his balls, licks the sensitive skin underneath them, and then traces her tongue alongside that vein in his cock to take him in again.

Robin is a panting, moaning mess, his thighs are tense his body is stiff, his breathing labored as he groans a “God, yes, I really need this, mm, you’re so bloody lovely, Regina, fuck, I’m— oh you’re so good at this, mmm, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh my fucking _god —_ ”

He wants to draw this out, so just when he feels like he might hit the point of no return, she eases off his cock.

“Noo! Don’t stop!” he mutters, adding some curses under his breath.

“You didn’t want to come too soon,” she reminds.

“I know, I… was so close though. I, oh god, I thought you were going to finish me.”

“I will,” she promises, “and you can come in my mouth,” she swirls her tongue lightly along his cock, Robin whimpers in pleasure, “when I do.”

She works him up for awhile, fast, then slowing when he’s too close, until he's nearly shouting her name, cursing wildly, thrashing under her. She’s incredibly horny for him herself (giving a blow job should make her this close, but it’s Robin, anything with him seems to) when she finally decides he’s had enough and takes him at a quick, firm pace, sucking him until he begs to let go inside her. Her hum of agreement is apparently all he needs, and he lets it all go with a whispered shout of her name.

She snuggles into him, ignoring the resurfaced ache between her legs when he whispers a thank you to her.

She presses a kiss to his brow and assures him it was her pleasure.

“Was it?” he asks. “Do you want more?”

Of course she does, what a silly question, she thinks. 

She only nods slyly. “Take your time,” she tells him, stroking his chest. “And tell me, if there anything else you’ve not done in awhile that you might want to do tonight?”

Robin chuckles. “Maybe a few things…”

“Let's do them all,” Regina smiles, kissing his lips and snuggling onto his chest.

It only takes a few minutes of touching and talking him up before Robin is ready for another round, this time, lying next to her and taking her from behind.

There’s another round where she rides his face to start, and the one where she’s propped on the dresser while he stands in front of it, one where they are on their sides, but facing each other this time, her leg propped against his hip. 

And it’s always just one more last time, just while they can, while they’re up and ready, until the sun is nearly up and their limbs are soaked with exhaustion, Robin setting his alarm as they fall into sleep together for what Regina knows, deep down, will be the last time.

Possibly forever.


	17. Chapter 17

She wakes to the feeling of Robin settling back in bed, arms wrapped around her.

“What time is it?” she yawns.

“It’s just after six,” he whispers back, “I checked on the kids. They are out.”

“Good,” she rasps, cuddling into him. “I can’t believe this is our last day together.”

“I wish it wasn’t,” Robin sighs. “I wish… I just don’t think we should be apart. We’re too good together.”

“We are,” she admits. “This is the most at peace I’ve felt in, well, years anyway.”

“Really?” he asks. 

She nods. “I wish we could have more times like these. Just weekends together with our sons. It feels so natural, I feel myself. And Henry… he just loves you and Roland. It all fits well.”

“So lets do it.”

It’s a huge suggestion but he says it so effortlessly she can’t completely process it.

“What?”

“Marian and I are done,” he explains. “Even if she wanted to try again, I couldn’t do it. My heart’s not in it. And… I’m not sure what’s going on with you and Graham but—”

“Nothing,” she murmurs. “We’re…. Not much of anything anymore,” she can’t help but smile. 

“So let’s do it,” Robin smiles, kissing her brow. “I know people will judge us, but I don’t care.”

“You’re crazy,” she laughs, still, her heart is overflowing at the idea of him moving back, recapturing their old life and being with her. “Let’s just screw it all and be together?”

“Yeah,” Robin traces her lips with his thumb. “Why not?”

She shakes her head. “Because we’ve… built lives with other people. You’ve _moved_ for other people.”

“I know. I did, I moved for Roland.”

“So you’d just move back, then? It’s just okay now?”

She can see the fear in his eyes, as he shakes his head. “No, I’m asking you to move up there. With me.”

Regina pushes his chest to gain some distance between them in the bed. “You’re crazy.”

“What’s so crazy?” Robin asks, “Regina we love each other, a lot. And you just told me how you feel. Why are we letting that go? Your job lets you relocate, right? You always say that. And you always say you miss the NorthEast since you left as a child. And what about that job offer from KSV? They have an office in Burlington—”

“I was offered that job almost a year ago,” Regina waves off. 

“They’d still be interested in interviewing you,” Robin insists. 

“My whole life is here, Robin,” Regina reminds. “My job, my… my fucking _house,_ my son’s school, all his friends, hell, _my_ friends, and… and Graham.”

“I know,” Robin says, trying to reach for her, but she’s not ready to touch him again and pushes to the edge of the bed. “God, love, it’s a huge thing to work through. It’s not easy, but I can’t figure a better way, and staying apart for the rest of our lives seems too terrible.”

“I can’t just leave,” she laughs bitterly. “It’s absurd.”

“It would not be easy,” Robin admits. “I just did it, and—”

“I can’t uproot my son from his whole life to fuck off to Vermont,” Regina scoffs. “Robin if you were talking about moving back here we’d be having a much different conversation—”

“And if I possibly could, I would. But I can’t take Roland that far from his mother. Regina, she needs him as much as he needs her.”

“And what about Graham? What about taken Henry from Graham?” she asks, defiantly.

“Come on, Regina. It’s not the same thing,”

“He’s been a role model, a big constant in his life for _years_ , he’s helped me raise him,” she reminds, “he’s been to the soccer games, the baseball games, the school plays and—”

“Yes, he’s definitely been to a few of those things. As have I. And I get it, but Graham doesn’t have the same relationship with Henry that Marian has with Roland.”

It hits something sensitive. Something she didn’t realize was sensitive until the moment he says the words, she thinks of the lack of blood Graham shares with Henry and it just hurts. 

“Don’t,” she says sternly, now riding the edge of the bed. “Just because Graham isn’t his blood, doesn’t mean—”

“That’s not what I mean, Regina. You have to admit that Henry and Graham aren’t that close.”

It stings, she hates the truth of those words, feels obligated to fight against them as true as they sound.

“They share a house, Robin. They’ve lived together. For years. How can you say they aren’t close?”

“But… I mean, you’re closer to Roland than Graham is to Henry, you know it.”

“Oh, great point! And you took Roland away from me despite how close we were, and how do you think that made me feel?”

“I shouldn’t have done that, I know. I was in an awful situation, but now I’m begging you to help me make it right.”

“Right, if I just pull Henry from his school and his friends and—“

“He already told me this weekend he wishes that you moved with us to Vermont, Regina. He—“

“He probably meant us _and Graham,”_ she bites. “And what the hell does he know? He’s a child and will probably change his mind next week. I can’t just take him away from all this and I can’t just take Graham away from him after all these years, he’s like a father to him—“

“He’s not the father, though. Henry doesn’t have one. Because Graham never adopted him, just like he never married you. He’s never cared as much as he should — as much as I do, and— “

She doesn’t yell though her body screams to do so. She’s too busy putting her clothes on to get out of that room as fast as possible.

“Regina?” He reaches for her, clearly unaware of how insulting he’s being.

“Don’t,” she tells him. “I’m going to go downstairs and make breakfast and we will all have a lovely finally morning and then you are going to _leave,_ and go back and try to fix it with your wife because we will _never_ happen.”

“Regina, please, what did—“

“You think I’m so pathetic that I have been with a man who won’t marry me? And won’t adopt Henry? Who the fuck says I’ve ever _wanted_ those things, Robin?”

“I don’t know, but—“

“Maybe _you_ were okay getting married to someone you didn’t fully love but I wasn’t. And maybe I’m the reason that Graham hasn’t adopted Henry, have you ever considered that?”

Truly Graham has never taken an interest in adopting Henry so they’ve never discussed it, but she has made peace with the unmarried aspect of their relationship. It never seemed fair to make lifelong commitments to someone she can’t love as much as she should.

“How long have you thought of me as this pathetic desperate woman who is sadly waiting for my boyfriend to finally marry me?” she asks, her clothes now fully on. “What did you think you’d come on a white horse and finally give me my fairy tale dream? Well fuck you.”

“Okay, this is not at all what I meant. I just meant Marian is Roland’s mother and Graham is not Henry’s father, so if we had to separate one of them—“

“Isn’t it convenient the way you’ve decided that?” Regina huffs. “Here’s some other arguments. You’re the one who left. You should come back. Henry is older and more rooted in this life, plus this was Roland’s home until a month ago and he’s not yet adjusted to Vermont. Your house isn’t even sold so you still have a place to live. You should come back, it’s better for the kids.”

“Okay, Regina, I get that—“

“Oh, here’s another one,” and she knows she’s reaching that point of _too far_ but cannot help taking the finally blow, “Who cares if it takes Roland away from Marian? Marian has always been a shit mother. We never say it out loud but it’s true, so why bother—“

“That’s enough, Regina. She’s had challenges, but she loves her son.”

“By either ignoring him or taking him for trips on roofs? If that’s love the word must have been redefined,” she seethes.

“Fuck you,” Robin whispers, “god, Regina, I can’t believe you’d say this to me after all these years and after everything I trusted you with—“

“And I never thought you’d throw the fact I was unmarried in my face but here we are,” Regina shrugs. “I’m going downstairs. I don’t want the boys to notice our fight, so you’re going to have to do a bit of acting. Though I doubt you’ll have much of a problem. Apparently you’ve been acting like a very different person for years.”

“Regina, wait, we should talk about this, I don’t want to leave like it this—“

“Too damn bad. You don’t get _everything_ you want,” she hisses.

And then she closes the door and tells herself tears will have to hold off until she can be alone. Just a few more hours now.


	18. Chapter 18

Turns out Robin is indeed a good actor. And Regina hates him for it.

She feels absolutely miserable and is positive it can show, while she makes Henry and Roland pancakes and eggs bacon. She’s forcing herself to smile when she doesn’t feel like smiling, but he is effortlessly playing with the boys, giggling at their antics and turning on _Home Alone_ for them. He looks effortlessly happy, and Regina could just about choke on the clawing cuteness of the three of them, having their whole come breakfast while she is struggling to not spiral into anger or tears (she’s not sure which she’s closer to).

She makes Robin’s eggs over-hard, just because that’s the mood she’s in, puts them down and spins around before he can so much as make eye contact with her.

The kids are distracted, eating breakfast on the coffee table and watching Kevin McCallister thwart burglars, and as she places her own eggs on the plate, she feels Robin’s warm palm fall on the hand she has resting on the countertop.

It’s jarring, and she’s so mad, but the second she looks up at him, there’s a sense of misery in his eyes.

And she tilts her head, wondering if maybe her anger can abate enough to make them at least end on a good note.

But like every other time in their lives, the timing is off.

The bells on the front door jingle as it opens, and Graham’s voice fills the house.

“How’s everyone doing?” he asks.

“Graham!” Henry calls out, jumping up from the couch to greet him. “You missed it, we had so much fun!”

“Did we? Tell me all about it!”

Regina tilts her head and raises an eyebrow at Robin nodding in their direction, trying to convey _I told you so_ , because Graham and Henry really are close.

He could have looked apologetic, could have mouthed an _Im sorry_ or even just looked understanding.

But he doesn’t. The look he gives back is a roll of his eyes and seems to convey _Are you kidding me?_ more than _I am sorry_ or _You are right._

And that just makes her boil in anger, and has her thinking of terrible hurtful things she ought to not act on, and yet…

”Hey, Graham,” she says as she saunters toward him.

“Hey, babe. Sorry I missed the weekend, I tried. Glad I got to at least see Robin for a little, yeah?”

“Yeah, that’s great. Don’t worry; no hard feelings.”

There absolutely are hard feelings but this isn’t really about Graham right now.

Graham is certainly not deserving of her affection, absolutely hasn’t earned the right to have the collar of his shirt fisted and pulled towards her, to share a passionate, heady kiss with her, one that makes him moan in a way she hopes Robin hears.

Graham doesn’t deserve these things. But Robin deserves to see them after the way he’s been acting.

“Well hello,” Graham smiles, “someone really missed me, huh?”

She smiles as wide as Cheshire cat and nods for effect, hoping “I did,” she lies.

“Mm, why don’t you show me how much you missed me tonight, huh?” he whispers in her ear, but it’s definitely just loud enough for Robin to hear, unless the clattering of a dropped fork at that moment is a random coincidence.

“Definitely,” she tells Graham, though she will fake a headache or exhaustion the moment Henry gets to bed, she’s absolutely not ready to have sex with Graham tonight after this weekend, there’s a large chance she won’t ever again, but Robin doesn’t need to know that.

“Robin!” Graham walks over to him.

Regina catches the chink in his armor, the moment where he looks angry or sad or both, and then it disappears over a jolly smile. “Graham, hey! Glad you could make it in for a bit, anyway!”

“I know, so sorry about that. And sorry Marian couldn’t make it, I sent her a text saying we should make plans some other time. She seemed a bit noncommittal, is she okay?”

Robin nods slowly. “It’s just a tough time, with such a big move.”

“Yeah, I get it, but you both will be back, right? I know you. You can’t stay away for too long from this one,” he nods toward Regina.

“Yeah…” Robin chuckles nervously, and she ducks her head at the awkwardness. Then his tone shifts into something more predatory. “We do have trouble staying away from each other, don’t we, Regina?”

There’s a glimmer in his eye and for a second she’s worried he’s going to tell Graham exactly how inseparable they have been this weekend..

“What?” Graham asks, puzzled.

She tries her best to look confused as well, but she worries inside that Robin may be about to blow everything open when Roland interrupts.

“Daddy! Rudolph is on! Come watch!”

Robin snaps out of whatever dark mood he was in and cracks a wide smile. “Rudolph? Really?”

“That movie creeps me out,” Graham says. And when Robin is out of earshot, back in the living room with his kid, he looks to Regina and whispers, “What was that about?”

“Who knows,” Regina sighs, making up an easy lie, “He’s been a bit off this weekend. He told me he regretted coming and I told him he should have stayed with his wife. I guess he thought I should have been grateful for his company or something.”

“Ah,” Graham says, though she can tell he’s a bit skeptical. “You two did always fight like children.”

She shrugs. “We’ve been in close quarters for days, a little spat was bound to break out.”

“Yeah…” he nods. “I suppose.”

“How was your weekend?” Regina asks far too casually. “And how is Ruby doing? Did she have to cancel all her Thanksgiving plans? It’s a long trip from Virginia.”

There’s a pause, and Graham looks at her as if he’s trying to figure out whether she knows. And well, she must have a tell. “I didn’t mention that she moved to Ohio a few months ago?”

“You did not,” Regina says coolly.

“Oh, yeah, she moved up there a bit ago. For some job. We still are shareholders in this venture so it’s nice having someone in the area. Was still a pretty far drive but, not that bad. Her holiday plans were a bit wrecked though.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Regina tells him.

And she hopes that ends all talk of either Ruby or Robin, for a while anyway.

.::.

There’s nothing more awkward than the next few hours. Regina hasn’t showered yet, and there’s quite a bit of evidence of her night with Robin all over her, so to speak, but for a while she puts off the shower because she’s not sure what Robin or Graham will say when she’s gone.

But the kids are there as a protective barrier, so she’s able excuse herself, shower and change. When she returns, Robin hops off to do the same. Graham turns on a game over the children’s protest, and Regina finds herself in the basement playing with them, until she smells soap and mint and sees Robin behind her.

He looks softer now, as if the shower washed away some anger.

“Hi,” he says, a nervous smile accompanying the soft words.

But Regina is somehow more irked that he has the audacity to smell so good and look so clean and sweet when she’s… she’s just so mad.

“Hi,” she says tensely.

“I, uh, packed us all up,” he whispers as the kids play.

“Good,” she says, nodding at him. “Your flight is not for what, four hours?”

“Yeah. But I’m worried we might have overstayed our welcome,” he whispers.

And part of her wants to shut him out and order him to leave, but there are two innocent children strong-arming her from making that decision (one that deep down inside, she knows she will regret).

“Don’t leave until you have to. For Roland’s sake. They love each other so much,” she murmurs, motioning to the play area of the basement, where they are currently huddled and laughing about something while playing with — oh no— _play doh_.

He nods. “They do.”

“I think we got it right all those years ago,” Regina whispers. “We are toxic for one another. We almost enjoy hurting each other.”

“That’s not true,” Robin says, I don’t—”

“If it weren’t for Roland interrupting you would have crushed me out there. And I saw your face. You loved every second of it.”

“No,” Robin insists.

“You saw me with Graham and it was like last time all over again.”

“That whole display with Graham, was that fun for you?” he asks, his voice now a raised whisper, “Do you know what it does to me, seeing you together? Every fucking second over the last few years? You do, don’t you? And you did it anyway.”

“Mom, what are you and Robin whispering about?” Henry asks.

“Nothing,” she glares at Robin. “Nothing important.”

“Maybe they are talking about Christmas presents!” Roland pipes up.

“Or birthday presents!” Henry adds.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Regina laughs. “And don’t get the playdoh everywhere, please? I don’t want to be cleaning that up everywhere.”

“We’ll be careful, Regina!” Roland insists, his hand full of the orange dough.

“Good. What are we making? Do you need any help?”

Until it’s time to leave, Regina and Robin play with the children, together, but apart, without really exchanging words together. Regina can tell that he is angry, and she’s livid herself. She could come up with a million excuses to leave this situation, but she has precious little time left with Roland and isn’t willing to sacrifice it. She suspects Robin is just as stubborn because he wants his time with Henry.

Before… well, she wonders when they will ever see one another again, at what point they will.

It’s time for him to go, too soon, really. And she’s glad for Graham running interference, glad for Roland and Henry as they collectively snuggle up to the children instead of each other.

And as she straps a sniffling Roland into his carseat, Robin, who has just thrown the carryon bags into the trunk, clears his throat and says “Goodbye, Regina.”

“Goodbye, Robin,” she nods.

She doesn’t even look him in the eye before he goes.

.::.

Monday morning is awful.

She had drunk herself into a stupor the night before, when Roland and Robin left and she was alone with feelings she wasn't ready to deal with.

Graham could sense her mood and went off to his den to watch football while she necked a bottle.

So in addition to being devastated, Regina has a hell of a hangover.

And she’s trying to nurse it with some water when Mary Margaret comes in smelling of expensive perfume and endorphins, a dazzling smile that already has her eyes blurring at the sight of.

“How was your Thanksgiving?” she asks, plopping down on the chair by the door, shutting it with a smile.

“Fine,” Regina smiles and shrugs. “How was yours?

“Uneventful,”Mary Margaret shrugs. “But… you got to spend the weekend with your best friend, and I know you’ve been looking forward to it. How was it? Did you do everything you had planned?”

Regina swallows a lump in her throat, realizing she talked more about Robin and Thanksgiving than she had meant to. “It was fii—“ her voice breaks, her eyes burn and water, oh god no, not in front of Mary Margaret. One of the first times she’s cried in front of anyone cannot be in front of Mary Margaret. “Fine.” she finishes, her voice smoother. “Just tiring, I guess…”

“Oh, Regina,” Mary Margaret coos. “What’s wrong?”

Regina waves her hand and shuts her eyes “Nothing,” she says, her voice high and reedy. “It wasn’t a good weekend—”

Tears spill over her cheeks and she has to hold her breath to keep from sobbing. Why is this happening? She’s been able to conceal and smile through so much trauma, and now… it’s not like what Cora would do to her or anything, it’s just an argument and perhaps a friendship ending moment with Robin but she’s a mess.

“Regina, you can tell me,” Mary Margaret says almost over a whisper.

“I can’t,” she says, her voice uneven, and with a sob she tries to cover as a hiccup she adds, “God, I can’t cry at work, if anyone else saw me—”

“My office is basically sound proof. Don’t ask me how I know that because you wouldn’t want to know the answer. And large. And everyone is too afraid to come bother me,” Mary reminds, “I’ll make us some coffee and you come in there, relax on my couch and tell me what happened. I’ll lock the door. And if you need a moment alone, I’ll leave you there.”

“That’s ridiculous I’m not going to go cry in your office,” she scoffs her eyes still heavy with tears.

“Do you know how many people I’ve let take naps or nurse hangovers in my office?” Mary Margaret asks. “Certainly you can nurse your heartbreak!”

“I’m not—” she wants to say she absolutely is not heartbroken, but the words won’t come.

“I’ll be in my office, if you want to talk, or want a moment alone, or just… want some tea,” Mary Margaret offers, and she gets up to leave, adding “Whatever happened, I can’t believe you two won’t get past it. You could get through everything.”

And as she shuts the door and Regina finally is able to stop fighting the tears.

She gives herself a moment, because people are working right outside her office and the walls are paper thin, and then she considers Mary Margaret’s naive words.

Mary is so damn full of hope because of those rose colored glasses she insists on wearing. She doesn’t see the ugly things, she’s never had to. So of course she thinks Regina will get her prince and everyone will magically be okay, because that is what happens in Mary Margaret’s world. David was set to marry Katherine Midas before he met Mary Margaret, but after just a few weeks after he first met Mary Margaret at work, he called the wedding off. He asked her out merely a month later, and it didn’t cause the hint of a scandal. Katherine somehow remains a dear friend of them both. So of course in the fairy tale world that Mary Margaret lives in, her situation is easy.

But real life is not her life. That is what she doesn’t get. Real life people don’t float on pixie dust and fall onto beds of rose petals. It’s messy and painful.

And Mary Margaret needs to _hear_ it.

It’s that thought that has her braving the walk to Mary Margeret’s office, stalking in there and shutting the door all ready to bring the reality of the world to the little princess.

She shuts the door and Mary Margaret leaves her chair to hand her a cup of tea she must have procured from the kitchen, smiling happily.

Regina takes the tea and sits down on her couch, staring daggers into her friends eyes before she just says it.

“We were sleeping together. Robin and I. A lot. We were cheating on our respective spouses. We started it in August when he told me he was moving. Because he, the selfish asshole he is, told me that he loves me, and of course, I…” she is angry, not sad, so the tears have _no_ right to come. “I am a selfish asshole, too, it seems, because I couldn't stop my feelings or actions either. So we’ve been having an affair. Under Marian and Graham’s nose.”

Mary Margaret looks so… unaffected. If anything she looks like she’s trying to hold back from smiling.

“Well, yell at me. Tell me I deserve having it end horribly and that of course it wasn’t going to work, because you can’t start a relationship with deceit and—“

“Regina stop,” Mary Margaret says, cutting her off. “Do you honestly think I didn’t know you two were doing that? The long lunches, your lipstick was either perfectly re-applied or completely off, there was that one day you missed a button on your shirt, and then well, the good mood you were in, I mean I was fairly certain it wasn’t Graham making you so happy.”

Regina’s jaw drops. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew,” Mary Margaret laughs. “You weren’t going to talk about it and I wasn’t going to pry, but it was obvious.”

“How are you even able to look at me?” Regina murmurs.

“I don’t like Graham,” Mary Margaret says, flat out as if it is nothing. “Never liked him for you, anyway. So I don’t really care about him, you’re my friend. And I like Robin with you. He makes you happy”

“He’s married,” Regina reminds.

Mary Margaret shrugs. “And David was engaged.”

“They have a _child,”_ Regina reminds.

“You mean Roland, who I’ve met several times,” Mary Margaret reminds. “The one whom you’ve babysat, the one who you got Henry’s old crib out for because of the time he had to spend sleeping at your house? The one had a full meltdown in the office when he was told he had to say goodbye to you and go back to Marian? Yeah, I’m aware Robin has a child, Regina.”

“I’m a terrible person,” she tells her, daring Mary Margaret to disagree.

“You’re in love. And you love his son, too. And… the only thing I don’t get is why you didn’t just be together. I guess it was hard with the timing and him needing to move but… you guys should have worked this out years ago. I should have meddled.”

“You should not have,” Regina sighs. “And we didn’t get together because he told me he had to leave. And this weekend he told me why.”

Mary Margaret tilts her head but says nothing.

“His wife — the one I’ve been betraying, mind you, has been struggling with some sort of mental illness.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Mary Margaret nods. “Is it depression, or bipolar disorder? Or is it—?”

“I didn’t ask for her diagnosis,” Regina snaps, then puts her head in her hands. “She wanted to leave Robin but he didn’t want her moving up to Vermont so far from Roland—”

“She was just going to leave Roland?” Mary Margaret asks.

Regina nods. “She needed family support I guess —”

“Robin and Roland are her family,” Mary Margaret notes. “Apparently they stopped feeling like it to her.”

Well, shit. Mary Margaret can be savage when she wants to be. Regina’s jaw drops before she can explain.

“He was worried that she might be… not able to handle life without Roland so he moved up with her. And now they are apart, it turns out moving didn’t clarify much except Marian definitely doesn’t want to be with Robin anymore. So he came to Thanksgiving with Roland and… no Marian.”

Mary Margaret smiles. “That must have been awkward, with Graham—”

“Graham had an emergency work thing and spent Thanksgiving with Ruby Lucas in Ohio,” Regina says and that’s itm Mary Margaret looks like Christmas morning, she practically yells _Oh shit_ with that wide grin lighting up her whole face, and Regina hopes the office truly is sound proof.

“I don’t believe in coincidences. That’s destiny,” Mary Margaret declares.

“It was…” Tears start to come. “We started things up again. I should have felt more guilty about it,” Regina declares.

“No,” Mary Margaret shakes her head. “Stop torturing yourself over not being tortured about it. Robin wasn’t with Marian anymore anyway. And Graham is Graham. Is that why you’re crying? Guilt?”

“We got into a fight,” she whispers. “I don’t think we will recover from it and—”

Regina stumbled on her words, tries to hide a sob in a fake laugh but doesn’t pull it off.

“What fight? I’m so sorry.”

“He wants me to be with him,” she says over her tears, “like just… just _be_ with him.”

“Okay,” Mary Margaret smiles. “That’s good news. Maybe he should have made this declaration earlier but—”

“He wants me to move to _Vermont_ ,” Regina adds, “and then when I said I can’t do that to Henry and take him away from Graham he just threw it in my face that they aren’t that close, that he won’t adopt him and won’t even marry me and—”

“Regina,” she can’t look at Mary Margaret, but Regina can hear that her excitement has turned to solemness. “That is awful. He shouldn’t have said that.”

“My mother told me how stupid it was to adopt a child without a father, especially a boy,” Regina sniffs, grabs a tissue, and tries to explain why these words cut so much. “He was supposed to have a male figure in his life and of course who would want to marry a young single woman with a child? I thought… with Graham I was giving him that but he’s right. Graham isn’t Henry’s father, he isn’t even his friend he’s just… he never made a serious effort and I was so grateful he was willing to do the bare minimum, that he was okay dating me and hanging out with us, that I didn’t even notice how little he cares. My son deserves a good male role model, someone who loves him, and he hasn’t had that, and—“

“Regina,” Mary Margaret soothes. “Henry wants for nothing, least of all for love. And Robin, what he said was out of line so it might be too soon to be complimenting him, but Henry has _him_. Henry has always had Robin as a constant in his life. You gave him a father figure. It just wasn’t who you thought it was.”

“Well I ruined that,” Regina says with a wet laugh. “I… we get so angry at each other, when we fight, Mary Margaret, we can get out of control in seconds. Just… destroy each other. It’s why we can’t be together.”

“What did you do?” Mary Margaret asks.

“I called Marian a shit mother,” Regina admits. “And… said she wanted to leave her son anyway and she’s never been there for Roland… it was too far.”

“It was,” Mary Margaret nods. “But maybe not… inaccurate.”

“Neither was what Robin said about Graham. That doesn’t make it right to say it out loud,” Regina reminds.

“I told him that it was over, everything between us, but we had to make it good for the kids, you know? The last few hours we had with them. And then Graham came home and I… started getting affection with him. To make Robin angry, I guess?”

“Regina…” Mary Margaret groans.

“And he got dangerously close to just telling Graham we were cheating when the boys interrupted him thank god. But… things escalate fast with us. We are just so incredibly _mean_ to one another. We go for the kill. I remember why we didn’t last the first time. I was stupid to even entertain the idea we might have… it just won’t work.”

“You’re passionate,” Mary Margaret nods. “And you’re in love—”

“That’s not always enough,” Regina notes.

“It’s almost always enough,” Mary Margaret argues, “some people just don’t know what life is. You love each other so of course you two can hurt each other more than anyone else. And when you get hurt you just… you retaliate! And I can’t figure out why you can get so brutal except that maybe you’d rather cause each other pain than cause no feelings at all.”

Regina laughs, because it’s absurd. And yet…

The thought of Robin being able to handle things so well in the morning was what caused her to ham it up with Graham, wasn’t it? Things escalated because of that frustration.

The fact that Mary Margaret of all people has insight into Regina’s life and her feelings… that the woman sees things she can’t, really shocks her. Makes her feel a bit idiotic, but also a touch grateful.

“I went too far,” she admits. “I _really_ hurt him. And you’re right, seeing him hurt made me feel oddly better, like I was glad he wasn’t able to just stop caring about me, god that’s fucked isn’t it?”

“It’s human,” Mary Margaret corrects. “And he was no saint himself. You should talk to him.”

“And say what?” Regina laughs. “He probably hates me and if he doesn’t, his home is Vermont and I can’t move there. We are still stuck.”

“Talk to him. Fix the friendship.”

“And what about Graham?” she asks.

“What do you want to do about Graham?” Mary Margaret asks.

“It’s complicated. We share a home together—”

“It’s your home. He just moved in,” Mary Margaret reminds.

“We…. our lives are so… wrapped up in each other’s I can’t even begin to think of how to untangle them.”

“But if you could wave a magic wand and fix all these logistical issues so you could separate from him, would you?” Mary Margaret asks.

“I don’t know,” Regina whispers.

But she does. The answer is resounding, reverberating inside her veins with every beat of her heart “Yes, yes I do know. And yes I would. God that sounds awful.”

“Don’t stay with someone you don’t love because it’s easy,” Mary Margaret says simply. “If David had done that he and I would never be together. And Katherine would have never met the love of _her_ life. Don’t keep yourself away from happiness just because going for it is hard.”

“How did you become so smart?” Regina asks.

“I am wise beyond my years,” she teases. And then her voice drops. “How are you feeling? I know how much Robin means to you. This must hurt.”

“I feel awful,” she admits. “I’m not sure why talking about how awful I feel makes me better but somehow it does.”

“Well you wouldn’t know this but keeping your emotions and feelings in makes everything harder,” Mary Margaret shrugs. “Open up more. It helps. Do you want to talk more about it?”

“No, that’s enough,” Regina says, her lips tight. “I… I’m done crying.”

Mary Margaret says nothing, just looks back at her with this warmth, her honey brown eyes so expressive and full .

“I just miss him,” Regina admits, swallowing a lump in her throat as her heart grips. “I miss him so much, and I don’t know how I’m going to do this…” she takes a shaky breath in and deep breath out. “I sound pathetic, I know. God you must have lost all respect for me, I’m not sure how you don’t hate me.”

“This is the most I’ve ever liked you. And that is a _lot._ And I’ve never stopped respecting you. You crying or confessing to having human feelings or even acting imperfectly doesn’t make me care for you any less.”

“Right,” Regina says, dabbing her eyes. “I just… I wish I hadn’t let myself get into this mess,” she admits with a stifled sob.

And Mary Margaret is there, making her way from behind her desk to next to Regina on the couch. Regina only feels a tinge of embarrassment when the girl puts her arm around Regina and practically holds her as she cries.

As odd as it sounds, the whole thing is far more settling than it is disturbing.


	19. Chapter 19

“Yeah but new schools are fun, Roland,” Regina hears Henry say from his room.

She should be folding laundry, but she can’t help but peer into Henry’s open door and watch the boy talking to his computer.

She’s wanted to call Robin since the day he left her house, but she’s never quite found the courage to do so. It’s been almost a week, and she is sure she’s gone longer without talking to him or Roland, but since they moved to Vermont, the daily phone calls at night had become a constant, and she’s felt the loss of them enormously. 

She assumed Robin had kept up contact with Henry, but Henry had not mentioned it and she truly hasn’t wanted to bring up Robin or Roland, explaining why they weren’t doing bedtime story was taxing enough.

Henry seems fine, though. He’s smiling into the computer, and he has headphones on, so she can’t hear what Roland is saying, but Regina can tell it is an intense conversation for a young boy.

“You were scared of pre-school here at first and then you loved it, right?”

Another pause. And Regina can’t eavesdrop anymore without announcing herself. “Henry? What’s going on?”

“Roland just got into a new preschool in Vermont but he doesn’t want to go,” Henry explains. “He asked to call me, so Robin set up a zoom call — Hey Robin!” Henry returns his attention to the computer, “Yeah my mom just stepped in, do you wanna talk to her? Yeah, she’s doing okay, I guess. But I think she misses you. She goes to bed early all the time now and whenever I bring you up she looks really sad—”

“That’s enough, Henry,” Regina interrupts. She gets in front of the screen to find Robin, and holy hell he has no right to look so gorgeous on a random Saturday afternoon at home, god she has missed him. She loses her voice for a second and just takes him in, notices that his mortification on what Henry has just said is as obvious as her own. “Can you switch the audio so I can hear what he’s saying?” Regina asks, pointing to her son's ear, to make it clear that she can’t hear Robin.

Robin waits until the audio is changed to come out of the laptop speakers.

“Hi,” Robin says, looking a bit uncomfortable. “I apologize if I shouldn’t be calling Henry. It was—“

“What’s wrong about calling me? Henry scowls. “Robin and I call each other _all the time.”_

“I agree. There’s nothing wrong with you two calling each other,” Regina nods. “I need to call Roland. I do miss him.”

“Regina, I miss you!” Roland says, jumping into the video frame. “And all this stuff happened. Regina, do you know some kids have a house for just the momma and a house for just the dad?”

Regina bites her lip and watches Robin’s eyes close in sheer embarrassment.

“Wow, Roland, two houses sounds exciting,” she tells him.

He shrugs. “But I’m only going to live in one house and I’ll visit with my momma. Just like how you and Henry live in different houses from us and visit. Except… I always used to live with my momma.”

She watches him fidget, looks at his face, and she knows he’s not taking this easily.

“You’ll see your momma all the time, I bet,” Regina tells him. 

“Would you ever move into a house away from Henry?” he asks, and Regina’s heart falls into the pit of her stomach.

“If it was for the best,” Regina murmurs. But no, she never would do that, even if Henry had a father she’d fight for custody until she saw blood. Her son would not be separated from her.

“It’s different for me, Roland, because I only have one parent,” Henry chips in. “So wherever Mom goes, I would go, too. I don’t have a dad I have to share time with like other kids have to.”

The way he mentions _only one parent_ so easily, how he doesn’t even appear to view Graham as a person he would have to ever learn to live away from… 

God.

She expects Robin to look smug when she can bear to look at him but he’s anything but. He actually looks quite sad.

“Sometimes moms and dads need their space,” Regina tells him. “From each other, not from you, Roland.”

The boy nods, but she can tell this isn’t easy.

And she worries if Marian has done her part to explain this, if she’s made it clear how much the boy means to her, if she’s gone out of her way to spend time with him so he doesn’t blame himself for this separation.

She knows deep down inside that Marian doesn’t have the ability to do all that. She thinks about how much harder it would be if Marian were moving hours away, how much harder it would be to assure the scared toddler that he would see his Momma all the time when his mother is so ill equipped at comforting children herself. 

Robin has been terrified of this moment for so long that he relocated the family to Vermont to prepare for it.

This is his nightmare. And Regina isn’t angry at him anymore. All she wants is to comfort him and Roland both.

“I miss North Carolina and our old house. We used to live there together and we could come visit you whenever we wanted,” Roland recounts. “Vermont is stupid.”

Vermont certainly is stupid, Regina thinks. 

“I’m going to be so jealous of you in the wonder when you get snow!” Henry says, looking at his mom with a shrug. That boy and his silver linings. “You’ll get to make snowmen!”

“Can you come visit us and help me build a snowman?” Roland asks.

She catches Robin’s eye for a hint of what to say and is taken back by how worn he looks, tired, sad, and just… lost. She knows this conversation with Henry had to be a desperate attempt to keep Roland’s spirits up. And normally Robin would call her first, but… their fight had changed things. She’s missed Robin terribly. Henry is right, she has been in an awful mood and finding any excuse she can to avoid a conversation with him that might end in questions about Robin. It’s only been six days. She definitely won’t be able to make it through a lifetime of this.

Robin gives her a slight nod and she knows he’s telling her to speak her mind and tell Roland anything she wishes.

“I’m sure we will find time to visit,” she tells him.

“Soon?” he asks.

“As soon as we can,” she nods. 

Henry looks up at Regina. “Maybe for Christmas break—”

“Henry,” Regina sighs. “That’s a bit too soon.”

“But I asked Santa!” Roland pipes up. “I asked Santa to go home for Christmas.”

“Santa has trouble delivering things like vacations and trips, Roland. You know that.”

“Well I also asked to see Regina and Henry for Christmas, that’s not a trip,” he tells him, proud of his loophole.

Regina thinks they will video chat with him on Christmas morning. That’s a good alternative, right? Maybe it retains some of the Christmas magic.

“We have to go. Roland is going to help me with dinner tonight,” Robin explains. 

“Can we do bedtime stories again?” Roland asks. “Bedtime isn’t fun anymore.”

Robin looks at her. “I don’t want to impose—“

“Of course,” Regina nods. “We’ll see you tonight, Roland. I’ll leave you two to say goodbye to Henry. Love you, Roland.”

“Love you, Regina!” Roland calls out.

She can hear Henry saying her goodbyes as she leaves.

.::.

“Are you and Robin in a fight?” Henry asks as she tucks him into bed.

“No, why do you ask?” Regina feels the guilt of lying to her son wash over her, but it’s not as if she can explain, can she?

“Because whenever I ask Robin if he wants to talk to you he says he can’t. And we stopped doing bedtime stories this week. And you both seem all sad.”

“Robin and Roland are going through a hard time now. I’m giving them space. Robin is getting a divorce, you know that, right?”

Henry nods. “But I don’t know why they are divorcing.”

“They might not know the reason exactly,” Regina smiles. “All that they might know is that it would make them happier to live apart than to live together.”

“Will we still talk to Marian?” Henry asks.

“I am sure,” Regina nods. “She’s still Roland’s mother.”

“I think Robin is really sad,” Henry declares. “Didn’t he seem sad today?” 

“I suppose,” Regina admits. “Divorce is a sad time.”

“Maybe he needs friends,” Henry suggests. “Maybe instead of space we should be trying to be closer to him.”

“You are far too smart for your age,” Regina sighs, “Come on, let’s call them. What book have you picked out?”

“The Wish Tree,” Henry says with a smile. “It always makes me miss snow. Maybe it will help Roland like Vermont.”

“You’re a very sweet boy,” Regina tells him. “I know spending so much time with someone so much younger than you isn’t always fun.”

“Roland is like a brother,” Henry shrugs. “and people don’t always like playing with their brothers but they don’t like them to be sad.”

“That’s true,” Regina nods, ruffling his hair.

“And it’s more like helping Robin with Roland sometimes,” Henry tells her. “He said I’m really good at it, and that I make being a dad more fun.”

“Is that right,” Regina smiles. “That’s sweet.”

“So you and Robin _aren’t_ in a fight?” he asks again.

“No,” Regina sighs. 

“Good because I would be sad if you guys got into a fight and I couldn’t see Robin anymore,” Henry tells her.

“Even if we did get into a fight,” Regina tells him, because she will make this promise now, “I would never keep you from him. I will always make sure you can see him whenever he can see you. I’d do that with anyone. Even if…” she swallows, “if Graham had to leave just like Marian, you could still see him all the time. Whenever you wanted, okay?”

Henry nods and looks away. “Okay, mom. But I don’t think we would.”

Regina pauses and purses her lips. “Why not, Henry?”

“Graham isn’t my dad,” he mumbles. “And he’s not my friend. I just think… if you guys broke up I probably wouldn’t see him a lot. Maybe never.”

“Does that upset you?” Regina asks, and it’s jarring to see Henry shake his head. 

“I guess? Graham is nice. But I don’t think I’d miss him as much as Roland will miss Marian or I miss Robin— oh no did I make you sad?”

Henry can catch on to Regina's mood easily though the way her eyes have gone wet doesn’t really make things too subtle.

“No… I just didn’t know you felt that way about him. If he had offered to adopt you—”

“No thanks,” Henry says quickly.

Regina feels as if she could have shrunk into nothing in both shame and guilt. 

“Do you not like Graham?”

“Nah, I just know he doesn’t want to be my dad. And that’s okay. Lots of people have stepdads who aren’t dads.”

“How do you… did he tell you that?”

“No, Mom, I can just tell,” he shrugs. “It’s not a big deal, stop making it a big deal.”

How was something so obvious to a child and not at all to her?

“Okay, right, sorry,” she mumbles. “Let’s call Roland.”

.::.

Roland is lying on his side sucking his thumb not midway through the book. It’s narrated by Henry this time, and she can see Robin seated behind Roland in bed, stroking his hair and looking into the camera with… pride, she supposes, as Henry animatedly reads the last page of the story.

“The end. Goodnight, Ro!” Henry says, waving at him. 

“Goodnight Roland,” Regina echoes. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he mumbles, his thumb still in his mouth. 

“And I love you,” Robin says, kissing his head. “Thank you both, he’s really missed this.”

And he goes for the phone he’s docked and that’s when Regina has to stop it.

“Robin, don’t hang up yet.”

“Sure,” Robin nods. “I’m just going to get out of this room, and turn on the nightlight for Roland…”

“— thank you,” Roland yawns.

“.. and turn out the light. Goodnight, Roland.”

“G’night.”

“Henry,” Regina kisses him, “lights out at nine-thirty, okay?”

“Yeah,” Henry smiles. “Goodnight Robin. Love you!”

“Goodnight, Henry. Thanks for your help today.”

She moves into the bedroom on Facetime and shuts the door to drown out the sound of whatever game Graham is watching.

“Robin?”

“I’m still here,” he tells her. 

“I—I thought we could talk,” she says, but of course he knows that. Isn’t it obvious?

“Yeah,” Robin nods.

“I… I don’t want to go that long without talking to Roland again,” she says, her voice far less stern as she meant it. It sounds more like a plea, or a request.

“I would never keep you from him,” Robin promises. 

“And that means we have to be on better terms,” Regina swallows. “I was afraid to call you, to see you.”

“You should never be afraid of me,” he answers. “I wouldn’t ever… do you think I was going to hurt you?”

“I was afraid you’d hang up on me,” she admits. “And that would break me, honestly. But I would deserve it. I need to apologize. What I said about Marian was terrible. And wrong. And… I’m not sure it’s forgivable.”

“It is,” Robin sighs. “What I said about Graham—”

“Was true,” Regina finishes. “Part of it anyway, much as I did not like to hear it, and it was a bit of a sore spot for me—”

“It came out of jealousy and anger I wasn’t being fair — I said it poorly and for the wrong reasons.” Robin adds. “I don’t even know why, something happens when we fight sometimes. and it’s like I can’t see straight or think, it’s all this burning haze of emotion and then by the time I cool off I’ve said some horrible things that I can’t forgive myself for. I’m sorry, Regina. Truly.”

“I never wanted to marry him. You should know that. I’m not waiting or pining on Graham to make a commitment to me.”

“I know. That’s not like you.”

“I get blinded, too, you know. I just can’t figure out how things always escalate with you, and how I say so many things I shouldn’t… I just, I’m really sorry.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says just over a whisper, “it’s been really hard not talking to you, I know it hasn’t been that long, but I need you, Regina, things are really hard right now, and I need my best friend—”

“You should have called when Marian left. I know how bad we left it but I would never not be there for you, and definitely wouldn’t just not help knowing Roland is going through it.”

“I know,” Robin sighs. “We just told Roland yesterday. Marian announced she was moving in with her sister right when I came back from Thanksgiving. She had already packed up. We just were waiting for the right time to tell Roland, and apparently she saw fit to tell him while we were telling him about preschool. I don’t know, Regina, it’s been so hard pretending to be upbeat and okay with everything for Roland’s sake. I’m just really fucking lonely.”

“I know you must be,” she sighs. “You have me. It’s just both of us, when we get mad at each other… we’re terrible to each other when we’re hurting.”

“I’ve been talking to someone,” he starts, then cringes. “When… when I knew things went down with Marian, I started seeing a psychologist, just to try to help, you know? I told him about Thanksgiving at the last session. We talked about you before… but really talked now, you know. And it’s my fault, you know. I realize that.”

“It’s just as much my fault,” Regina admits. “But I can’t do more days away from you so we better go back to being friends. It’s too dangerous being more than that. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” he promises. “As angry as I was, I was just worried I’d lose your friendship and didn’t want to lose that. It wasn’t like all those years ago.”

“I worried about losing you,” she admits. “It’s why I haven’t called.”

“Just… just keep calling me, okay? Even if you think I don’t want to hear from you. Because I always do. But it might be awhile before I feel okay seeing you and Graham so maybe no group chats?”

Regina laughs bitterly. “God, Robin. That was awful of me to do. I don’t know where my head was.”

“I’m not complaining,” he assures. “I just know my limits and I can’t see him right now. I’m so sorry.”

She wants to tell him that Graham won’t be along for much longer because in her heart she knows that’s true. But it feels wrong for Robin to know that she and Graham are over before Graham himself. And she respects Graham far too much, even with everything, to do that to him.

“I had to train myself to not react whenever I’d see you and Marian together,” she admits. “For years. It wasn’t easy. Every time we all went out together I had to give myself a pep talk. So you don’t have to apologize.”

He nods. 

“So we can be friends again?” Regina asks.

“Love,” he sighs, “we were always friends. And we can always be if you only want that. But I’m not going to stop wanting more.”

“Even knowing how we destroy each other?” Regina asks, trying to sound light and teasing. “Robin, I think we proved we are better as friends.”

“I disagree,” he says, his sad smile goes lopsided on his face and then disappears. “But the last thing I want to do is fight with you.”

“That’s why I just want to be friends,” Regina tells him. “I don’t like fighting with you.”

“I’d rather fight with you every single day than not talk to you at all,” he tells her. “I miss you. I miss my best friend.”

“And I miss you and I want to be there for you. Do you want to talk about Marian? I’m so sorry. It must have been awful.” 

“Not tonight,” Robin tells her. “She made the right decision. We weren’t in love anymore. But… I don’t love how she handled it with Roland.”

Regina’s face must give away something, because Robin rushes to assure her, “She wasn’t mean, just… maybe thoughtless?”

“She hurt him,” Regina guesses. Robin nods. 

“She was going to hurt him no matter what, darling,” Robin tells her. “When your mother tells you she’s going to move away, it doesn’t matter how nice she is, it’s always going to hurt. It doesn’t even matter…” he pauses, and amends, “It doesn’t much matter that she hasn’t been the most present mother in the world. It’s his mother. Those television shows he watches, the cartoons even, his friends and… just everything he has learned at school tells him that Marian is supposed to be attached to him. Of course it will hurt to learn that his life is different from the others.”

“I’m so sorry, Robin.”

“He got confused,” Robin bites his lip. “He asked all these questions, and Marian didn’t even expect them. I said we should wait to tell him together but I guess she was just in the moment, somehow that it fit in the conversation about change when we talked about a new preschool so she just went for it. And she couldn’t answer his questions, and he got nervous… it was terrible. So I answered them, but I don’t think I gave truthful answers. He thinks he can see Marian whenever he wants. He thinks she will have a bedroom for him — I don’t know if that’s true, but I figure they have a couch, at least. But he kept asking why, why she wanted to leave, and she just couldn’t tell him. You’d think that’s the only thing she’d have sorted. Why she’s leaving, you know?”

“You’d think,” Regina sighs. “But he seemed okay, Robin. As well as any child could be who just learned his parents are getting divorced. You did a good job, Robin.”

“I hope,” he scoffs. “Anyway, tell me about your week. I’ve missed you, you know. Missed your stories. Tell me about Mary Margaret and Gold and all the trials and tragedies of the post-Thanksgiving life in Regina Mills. How is the shopping for Henry? Tell me everything. I need a distraction. And just to hear your voice, maybe? For now”

“Well,” Regina smiles, “The search to find a Nintendo Switch Lite is not yet fruitful…”

And then, thank god, they are talking like old friends, sharing Christmas memories and gift lists for their children, and Regina. She knows she is distracting him and there’s a lot left unsaid between them, but things feel better. 

.::.

Regina waits until the next weekend, because Henry is out for the night at a sleepover. 

It’s terrifying, at first, but she sits down at dinner and looks at Graham and just starts.

“Graham, I’m going to be entirely blunt. I think we might be past our expiration date in this relationship.”

He looks up puzzled. “Is this about Ruby Lucas?” he asks, and it’s the entirely wrong question, he has no idea what she means, and she could almost laugh. “Because, I swear, nothing happens, anyone who says it did is misinterpreting, and—”

“I am absolutely sure something happened with Ruby Lucas,” Regina says sternly. “I’ve known for a while. Years, actually, I ignored it, but it was there, even if it was just some flirtatious texts, there was something. She left, and I guess you two had a bit of a revival this weekend and it should bother me, but, frankly, I don’t care. And how little I care makes it clear that we aren’t what we should be.”

He purses his lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Regina. I thought we worked just fine.”

“Maybe if it was just us, maybe if I just felt hollow around you, it would be… fine. I would lived with it forever,” she shrugs. ‘Which would have been dumb, feeling this empty, comfortable but not really enjoying being with you. Letting you do whatever you want until you found someone better, something better, and yes, doing whatever I want as well. Maybe that would have been okay for me. If you had loved my son as my own, I might have never left.”

“I have always done everything you asked with Henry—”

“Yes, everything I _asked_.” Regina nods. “Whenever I’ve needed it. Which is infrequent, isn’t it? You’ve been the _perfect_ nanny.”

“I’ve never been anything but kind to Henry,” Graham argues.

“Yes. You are kind to my son and always do what is asked. You never _loved_ him. You never wanted to do things with him on your own. It was always an obligation, wasn’t it?”

“For fuck’s sake, why now?” Graham asks. “Why are you bringing this up now of all times?”

“Because Henry just told me how he felt,” Regina shrugs. “I will pick Henry over anyone every time. And if you don't love him, if you don’t want to give _everything_ for him, you shouldn’t be with me.”

“You want a father for Henry? Then you should have told me five years ago,” Graham shakes his head. “And you never seemed like you did. You seemed fine with how things worked. You wanted to have all the say when it came to Henry’s decisions. I was with you, and I was perfectly polite to Henry. I wasn’t even a stepfather, and most people would love for a stepfather to be so—”

“Shut up,” Regina scoffs bitterly, “Shut up because I don’t care how much other single mothers have to suffer through a mountain of mediocre men. They aren’t me. And I’d rather be alone than be with someone who doesn’t love my son. And you don’t. You don’t love my son and damn it, Graham, I had convinced myself you did. And now I just see you, and I think about how fucking intrusive it is for someone who doesn’t love my son to live in my house and share my bed. I could deal with infidelity, honestly I could put up with a lot if you loved him,” she tells him — cutting him off when he tries to interrupt, “But even without your failures with Henry, you’re just not the right fit for me. And we’re just delaying the inevitable. And why? Do you want to be with Ruby?”

“I don’t want to—”

“You do. Even if it’s just a fleeting thing, it’s obviously something you want and I want things you can’t provide, too. Henry was the only reason I delayed it so long and he made it clear I don’t have to sacrifice for his sake. So let’s just end this before we waste another five years.”

For a while Graham does not speak. She waits, thinking he may be coming up with some heartfelt soliloquy of why they should stay, but instead he just says, “There’s a free apartment in one of the places I manage. I can move there… I’ll need some time to get everything set up.”

“Take your time,” Regina tells him. “I’m not kicking you out right away. I’m just ending this.”

“Out of fucking nowhere, just like that?” He asks.

“Is it out of nowhere?” Regina asks. “Is it? Is it really? We live two separate lives. We barely talk anymore. It’s been over for awhile. I’m just finally having the strength to say it.”

Graham shakes his head. “You’ll miss me. You don’t have Robin anymore to lean on anymore. You’ll be alone, and—”

“I don’t _need_ anyone but Henry,” Regina tells him. “Why are you fighting this? You’re making it incredibly clear that you won’t miss anything about us, or me. So why are we arguing?”

Graham wipes his face with his palm. “You are really serious about this, then?”

Regina nods.

And there’s a big long night of talking, and fighting ahead of them, but she’s sure the worst is over.

And it’s terrifying, but she feels a sliver of relief, too.


	20. Chapter 20

“Graham is moving out the last of his stuff tonight. It’s officially over,” Regina shoves a forkful of salad into her mouth so she has time to contemplate the answer to whatever question Mary Margaret asks while she’s chewing. 

“You broke up?!” Mary Margaret’s eyes go wide and her fork clatters on the desk.

Regina nods. “You were right, I was just wasting his time. And mine. And turns out Henry wasn’t particularly attached… so?” she shrugs, the empty feeling inside her grows, because she had years comfortable with what she thought was an unconventional but real family, and now it all seems like a delusion. But it does not stop the memories of what never was from replaying in her head.

But Regina Mills is not going to make a habit over crying in front of Mary Margaret. So she pushes away the sadness and keeps her eyes dry and jaw locked. 

“I’m just surprised; I figured you’d waffle more on it. For a few weeks, anyway.”

“I don’t waffle. When my decision is made, I make it. Rip the bandaid right off,” Regina flicks her wrist and flashes a cynical smile. “It stings, but at least I’m not letting the pain linger.”

“Well,” Mary Margaret clears her throat, “I mentioned I didn’t like him, right?”

“You did,” Regina nods. “But you didn’t see everything. He wasn’t… a bad man.”

“I meant I didn’t like him _for you_ ,” she clarifies. “In any case, you’re okay?”

Regina nods, staring at her salad. “Not great but… I guess it will be better once he completely gets out of the house. Henry was great about the whole thing, but having tht talk with my son was still hard. I’m sure I will miss Graham, but for now, I’m okay.”

“Good,” Mary Margaret says, and then she leans in with a devilish smile. “So. Did you tell Robin?”

“No,” Regina straightens her posture and focuses her attention on her food. “I’m sure Henry has told him, but it doesn’t seem appropriate to—”

“To tell the man you love that you are single?”

“It’s not like we were waiting to be single to… go there... So nothing changes.”

“Of course it does. You don’t have to hide anymore. You can just _be_ with him.”

“My mother would love that reasoning,” Regina says with a roll of her eyes, and Mary Margaret mutters back _who cares_. The woman hasn’t ever cared for a single man Regina’s ever dated and has all but given up on her, focusing her attention on grooming her older sister for greatness, which, frankly, made things all the easier.

“It’s not just that. I’m not sure what to say to Robin. He still lives several states away. I’m not moving there. So nothing changes. For real.”

“Still, you love him. He should know —“

“I love him _poorly_ ,” Regina reminds. “I love him in a toxic way. And he loves me just the same.”

Mary Margaret freezes, squinting at her but saying nothing.

“What?” Regina finally asks, feeling oddly uncomfortable.

“I’m trying to work out how your love is toxic, and I just can’t wrap my head around it.”

“We get obsessed with each other. We couldn’t keep away from each other so we _cheated on our spouses_ for months. We get far too passionate and enjoy hurting each other when we fight. Toxic.” She shrugs. “It’s pretty textbook.”

“I’ve watched you drop everything to help Roland,” Mary Margaret shrugs. “And, hell, you’ve done the same to help Robin. Even _Marian._ I doubt Robin ever wanted to be around Graham, think about how often he was, invited him on fishing trips and all that purely because it made you happy. You sacrifice for each other. You love each other’s children. You are best friends. Toxic love doesn’t look like that.”

“Then why do we… do this to each other?” Regina asks. “Why do we hurt each other so terribly?”

“Immaturity? Insecurity? Constant confirmation that if you can hurt each other you still matter to one another? I have no idea. Maybe it’s what happens when you love someone and hide your feelings for them for years and pretend passionate love is just a friendship or a fleeting thing… I don’t know. I don’t know because I don’t know a single soul who has been able to go through years feeling like that but each other. Ask a counselor.”

“Don’t tell me I need therapy,” Regina grouses. “Robin is already seeing someone, apparently.”

“I think therapy is pretty great,” Mary Margaret shrugs. “I’ve been going since my mother died. It’s nice, being able to dump all your problems on someone and have them just listen.”

“I’m aware of what therapy is,” Regina sighs.

“Well I bet a therapist would be able to tell you why you do what you do, but it’s certainly not a toxic kind of love. You have a very healthy friendship. I mean, unconventional with all the pining and the lust and the… lovemaking—”

“Okay that’s enough!” Regina tries to drown out the smug smile on Mary Margaret’s face and rubs at her temples to prevent a headache. “That last part wasn’t supposed to be a part of our friendship.”

“How about raising each other’s kids?” Mary Margaret asks.

Regina just stares silently back at her.

“I just don’t know why you always fight making the easy, simple solutions, Regina. I can assure you just accepting other people’s love is much easier than settling for something boring.”

“I do not _settle_ ,” Regina tells her, offended at the implication.

“Only when it comes to love,” Mary Margaret chirps back. “I think you’re just afraid of it. And going out of your way to avoid doing what you really want, that’s not really helping, is it?”

Regina always has a quip or a one liner reserved to throw at Mary Margaret whenever she wants to shut her down. But now she is just entirely speechless.

“Think about it,” Mary Margaret shrugs. “But for now, I want to hear dirty details on how he is in bed.”

“God no!” Regina feels her damn cheeks heat— in indignation, _not_ embarrassment, of course...

“Help a married girl out! Come on, tell me…” she turns around at their lunch spot and stares at the bathroom. “Did you hook up here?”

“No!” Regina says in an insulted whisper, “Never at a place like this! And we didn’t always do _that_. In fact we only really… went beyond a bit of kissing twice during our lunch dates. Other times we just talked and held hands— oh god, that’s even worse, isn’t it?”

“It’s so sweet,” Mary Margaret gushes.

“God, I regret telling you this,” Regina declares.

“Stern and strict no nonsense Regina Mills sitting in a corner booth holding hands as she eats,” Mary Margaret smiles. “I bet you hated when you had to pause to cut your food up, huh?”

“I’m done with this conversation,” Regina declares. But she reaches across the table and grabs Mary Margaret’s hand, squeezing it right. “But thank you. For not judging. And for listening.”

Mary Margaret nods as if it were nothing, the way a best friend would.

Regina isn’t sure why the universe saw fit to give her such a person in her life, but she’s grateful for whatever cosmic error was made.

.::.

The first bedtime while Graham is still collecting and moving his stuff is awkward. He was supposed to be out — he’s mostly been out since they broke up, but tonight he is here, packing up the last of his stuff. She should be trying to help, or being civil, or hell, maybe getting herself and Henry out of the house to avoid the conflict, but instead she delays making the choice, stuck on thinking what option is best, until it’s too late. Now she’s practically hiding in Henry’s room, and hell, her son still wants to call Robin, and Regina doesn’t want to cancel and explain. So she shuts the door and they call to say goodnight as always.

She waits for Henry to bring it up, especially when the loud sounds of Graham moving the chest of drawers down the stairs reverberates in their room. But he doesn’t say a word, thank god. He is entirely in the moment, drawn into the story.

She has no idea if Henry has informed Robin of the circumstances, but either way, Robin doesn’t bring it up, either.

Until, of course right before he finishes tucking in Roland, where he looks up and speaks. “Don’t hang up just yet, we can chat after, yeah?” Robin asks.

She doesn’t have a chance to answer, because he grabs the phone from where he has it resting and walks out of Roland’s room.

“You doing okay, Henry?” Robin asks, and then she knows, Henry has told Robin about Graham.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he smiles, then looks over at his mother with a little guilt. “We talked about Graham.”

Regina nods and pretends it doesn’t terrify her. “I assumed you would.”

“He’s moving his stuff out now,” Henry tells Robin. “He was nice to me about it, it feels a little weird, but I’m okay.”

“Good,” Robin smiles on the screen. “If you want to talk, or need anything—”

“— I know I know, I can always call,” Henry sighs. “But I’m okay. I promise.”

“Good,” Robin nods. “Is it okay if I talk to your mom for a bit?”

Talk to _her_? With Graham out there? Absolutely not.

“Actually, Robin, if I could call you back later, there’s um… some things I need to handle.”

“Sure,” he nods. And then, just as if he’s been saying it his whole life, he adds, “Love you both. Talk to you later.”

She hangs up wondering if Henry has some questions about the love you _both_ part. Has he said it before? She can’t remember. Perhaps he has and she’s never really felt it the way it feels now that he knows she’s single and he is the same.

But Henry doesn’t pick up on it at all or at least doesn’t think it’s odd, just yawns and says, “I’m going to read for an hour, okay mom?”

She nods and kisses him goodnight.

.::.

Regina's plan was to simply not call and say she was exhausted and fell asleep by the time Graham left.

She doesn’t want to talk to Robin, she’s not ready to deal with everything that involves recounting a five year breakup. 

But she is too wired and nervous to even think about sleep, and she realizes it is probably best to just get it over with.

So she Facetimes Robin before she goes to bed, lying on top of the covers without makeup on, probably lying in the worst possible angle with her hair some curly, tangled knot on top of her head and a headband she only wears to bed.

At least she’s not sending out mixed signals, she supposes.

“Hello,” he picks up, also in bed, his hair all ruffled and adorable. 

“Hey…” she answers softly.

She watches Robin’s smile spread slowly, and then he asks, without a hint of accusation in his voice, “Regina, love, why didn’t you tell me?”

She knew the question was coming, but she wasn’t prepared for it to be asked so sweetly, so nicely.

She expected a fight.

Instead Robin just looks concerned.

“It didn’t seem right to tell you, to confide in you about a breakup when we are… what we are,” she explains.

“I’m still your friend,” Robin reminds. “I hope you knew I wouldn’t have been selfish about this… I wouldn’t have tried to get you into bed or asked you to—”

“I know,” she interrupts. “You would have been there for me, listened to me, but it might have hurt. I’m not exactly all smiles and rainbows about it. But it had to happen. I will probably miss him. And I don’t want to talk about _missing him_ to you. But I didn’t tell Henry to keep it quiet, so I figured he would tell you.”

“He did,” Robin nods. “But you know I didn’t hear it from him first. Graham called Marian.”

Her heart almost stops. “He _what?”_

“Thought she should know. Apparently he thought if you were single I might make a move. Or maybe that you dumped him to be with me. I’m not sure which. But he called Marian. I think she had her suspicions about us, and maybe thought you left him for me, but when she told me she could see the surprise on my face. She was shocked that I didn’t know.”

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have heard about it _that_ way. Graham is… that was a dick move.”

“I didn’t know he was threatened by us. He always seemed to enjoy the fact that we were so close. He told me it made his life easier.”

“I don’t… sometimes he’d make a comment about how much we like to spend time together but he never truly seemed to think there was anything there.”

“But Marian did. For quite some time. And I’m sure she told Graham her concerns.”

“Did she tell him that you two are divorcing?”

“Yeah,” Robin shrugs. “And Graham said that’s probably why you broke up with him. Because we have to always do things together, even go through breakups together.”

Regina giggles, she can’t help it, Graham is such an idiot sometimes.

“He hasn’t said anything to me. But I’ve been wrapped up with Henry. How has he seemed, to you?”

Robin tilts his head and sighs. “I will tell you how it sounds like he is, but I don’t want to fight, Regina. I’m not saying this because I’m biased, okay?”

Regina nods slowly.

“I think he’s handling it better than you think. He said he— and I’m not saying this to hurt you — he said he never really felt like Graham was his family so it doesn’t feel like it does with kids whose parents get divorced. But it’s weird because he probably won’t see Graham anymore.”

“Graham should _want_ to see him,” she grumbles. “I don’t know how you can live with a child for years and not grow attached. I…” she sighs and settles into the mattress. “I don’t understand him. I honestly don’t understand Henry. He lived with this man, too. I thought he’d be upset. But he’s either putting on a brave face or he’s really not too upset about it.”

“Graham was a nice guy that was nice to his mum,” Robin tells her. “He cooked on the grill for Henry, and played video games with him, he drove him to the movies, but he never really bonded. And don’t go getting upset or feeling guilty because that’s not abnormal. Lots of children don’t connect with step-parents, even less with their parent’s boyfriends.”

“He would do nice things around Christmas,” Regina notes. “I mean, he always bought Henry a gift, and he made a nice breakfast and always had his favorite shows ready. Then Christmas Eve, we would all go to that indoor ice skating rink and your mom and dad would be there sometimes, Graham’s dad sometimes would, too, and Henry liked that. Just all the people hanging out. It was not a big deal, but it was always a thing to look forward to, you know? And now… it will just be the two of us for the holidays. I might have to cave and accept the invitation to the Mills Family Christmas.”

Robin laughs. “With Zelena and all? Surely you don’t need that in your life.”

“I don’t have you and Roland, I don’t have Mary Margaret— she and David are having some sort of fairy tale ski trip in Utah, by the way, and I don’t have Graham. Henry might have a friend or two he can spend time with for break but… it’s just too different than usual Christmas.”

“Well,” Robin sighs. “What if we did see each other for Christmas?”

Christmas is a week away. There’s no time for tickets, there’s certainly no time for tickets or trip planning for a holiday such as Christmas.

“Did you invent teleportation?” Regina asks with a raise of her eyebrows. “Please tell me you did. It would solve almost all my problems right now.”

“I did not,” Robin chuckles. “But I am going to be down south for Christmas. With Roland. Spending Christmas in Virginia with my parents.”

“Marian?” Regina asks.

“With her family. I was told I could celebrate with them but the way I was asked wasn’t the best. Her parents and her sister really want Roland there, of course, but I’m attached to Roland so it’s decidedly less than ideal.”

“Did they actually say that?”

Robin shakes his head. “They did ask about taking Roland this time, and you know, I’d have Roland next year. But Marian’s sister threw out the idea when Roland was in earshot, and he just screamed that he was not going to spend Christmas without his dad. So they quickly said I could come too, but I’m honestly not ready to spend the holidays like that. And they understood. Marian agreed I should get him for this Christmas.”

“You should get him for _every_ Christmas,” Regina mutters.

Robin shrugs. “We’re going to take it one holiday at a time.”

“So you are going to Virginia,” Regina asks.

Robin nods. “It’s not a bad drive, I could change our tickets, or we coud—”

“Robin, your mother will be devastated if you cancel.”

“She won’t. She would be ecstatic if I spent it with you. And Roland, too.”

“I would love that. But I think we both know that that’s not a good idea.”

Robin frowns and simply asks, “Why?”

He knows why. It annoys her that she even has to say it.

“Because you know if we spend another holiday under the same roof we will end up all over each other!” she blurts out, making Robin snicker with the truth of it all.

“I’m missing how that’s a bad thing,” he says bluntly. “If you don’t want it, if it’s too soon after you and Graham, then I’ll absolutely hold back, you know I’d never try to get you to something you didn’t want.”

Regina knows that. Knows it in her soul, just as much as she knows that she wants to be with him just as badly, and if he comes to visit her with mountains of self restraint, she will tear them all down with her selfish needs and desires for intimacy and sex with him. 

Especially around Christmas, they will play house again, their children acting like brothers and all that “most magical time of the year” crap sweeping her away and making her forget all the reasons they need to stay their distance. 

On Christmas, a holiday where she already has imagined herself married to Robin several times.

And she just ended a five year relationship.

It’s too soon for . If she’s pumped full of hot chocolate and romantic comedies and happy children, she will give in into the moment, and pay the consequences when the holiday haze clears.

“The problem is that I will want it,” she murmurs. “I always want it, but If we get together on Christmas, I’ll end up in bed with you. I know myself.”

“Okay,” he smiles. “So, you’re worried that I will come to see you on Christmas, we’ll have a lovely time with our children and spend lovely nights alone with each other doing something we both are quite skilled at and very much enjoy. What is the problem?”

She wipes her eyes with the palm of her free hand. “Robin,” she groans, “you _know_ what the problem will be with that.”

“I really don’t.”

He doesn’t look frustrated, just curious, so she isn’t truly upset. 

“Because every time we end up doing that we end up fighting, and then we lose each other. I’m not ending Christmas that way. Thanksgiving was bad enough.”

“That won’t ever happen again, Regina.” 

He says it so confidently, so matter-of-factly it renders her speechless for a moment. How can he — how does he know that? If there was some key that made them stop fighting this terribly, why didn’t he share it with her earlier?

“It’s happened every other time. You can’t promise it won’t happen again.”

“I can,” he tells her. “I am working on myself. And working on how I feel about us. I’ve been scared of losing you for years, Regina. And I didn’t know it until recently. I get scared, I feel trapped, and then I just… lash out.”

“So do I,” Regina notes.

Robin licks his lips. “I realize that the only way I’d ever lose you is if I lash out over the fear of losing you. I can tell you love me, Regina. Even if you can’t be with me, even if it won’t ever be more than anything. We love each other. And we’ve made it this far, I think we’ll make and keep a friendship no matter what happens.”

She chuckles bitterly. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I don’t trust myself, Robin.”

“I can take sex off the table, if that helps?” 

She shoots him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I can promise you that we won’t have it. Even if you want it, and I want it. We’ll forego it.”

It’s a noble idea, but she’s not so sure it will help. And frankly, she’s not entirely sure he’s being honest.

“You’ll just turn me down if I try something, huh?” she asks, her lip quirking up into a bemused smile.

“Yup,” he winks. “See, a simple solution.”

“I think that’s easier said than done,” she chuckles. And she feels… like teasing him. Flirting. He looks so good right now, so cute but also sexy in a way she should not notice tonight. She’s had a lot of stress and the man who was her partner for five years just stormed out of her house for the last time, most likely. 

She’ll just tease him to make a point.

“I know I’m not the only one who has trouble stopping things when we get… carried away,” she starts.

“You aren’t. But I can exercise self restraint.”

“So if I come on to you,” she shakes her head, thinking of the scenario, her free hand caresses her neck down, fingers trace her collarbone and then go further south, dancing around the neck of her shirt. “If I try to kiss you…” she watches Robin’s reaction, watches the way his eyes are drawn to her lips for an instant and then go back to following her hands and the sensitive swells of cleavage she’s currently absently touching. “if I reach for you, tell you I want to feel you inside me—”

“Christ,” he murmurs, and it’s obviously over, point proven, apparently she can rile him up with hypotheticals.

“See?” She asks, knowing the answer.

There’s a pause, and she watches Robin think carefully. 

At least now he’s being honest.

“It would be tough, but I’d turn it down,” he resolves, “Because as good as it feels being with you like that, as much as I love making you feel good, I wouldn’t ever want you to regret it. And I wouldn’t want it to risk our friendship in any way.”

She wonders why he is so stupidly wonderful sometimes and can be so horribly awful at others (it’s not him, it’s her, she’s the one who riles him up and gets his temper out of control.)

But even with what he’s suggesting, she can’t quite agree to it. 

“I know myself. If I come on to you and you turn me down, I’m going to be embarrassed and angry about _that_. You truly can’t win. I can’t either. Christmas is just too difficult, Robin. It’s a big holiday for me. Even if we do behave, if we give Henry and Roland _another_ holiday together they are going to expect every holiday. And we can’t do that. We both won’t be single forever. We can’t set up shared holidays and do that to the kids.”

“When is the next time I _can_ see you, then?” he asks, and well… he doesn’t fight her. He’s not put out. The touch of anxiety leaves her.

“When the holidays are over,” she promises him. “When I’m feeling a bit better about Graham and my head is a bit clearer. We’ll plan a visit. I’m sorry. Christmas is just a bit more than I can handle right now.”

She knows what will happen if they spend Christmas together. She’ll watch him being the best dad ever — to both their sons, and she’ll be hopped up on candy canes and hot chocolate that will have her so head over heels in love she will forget her common sense and decide they should give it a shot. And then they’d fight again over where to live or what to do or god, over whether the coffee he brews is too strong, things would escalate, they’d end it, and it would utterly destroy her. 

“I’m sorry,” she adds needlessly.

“Don’t be,” Robin gives her a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I can handle that.”

She nods. 

“So,” she whispers, trying to ignore the twist of anxiety she has as she broaches the subject, because she’s shut him down, and he deserves this, and she can’t stand in his way, “Are you thinking about getting back out there?”

He laughs. Laughs at her! 

“No,” he shakes his head, his cheeks adorably red, “I’m a single dad with a mentally unstable soon-to-be-ex wife who is… Well, I don’t say this to upset you. But I am, well,” he sighs, “I’m still in love with you, Regina.”

She is very much in love with him, still, and completely sympathizes with his reasons for not trying to get into a _relationship._

“I’m talking about a fling,” she explains. “I have no desire to get into a relationship — perhaps ever again, if I’m being honest—”

Robin laughs at that, says, “I know what you mean,” and she smiles sympathetically.

“It’s just that you and I never really had those flings in college or high school, did we?”

Robin shrugs, “I guess I got around a bit in high school. I know you didn’t. But… no. There was Ella, then you, then Marian.”

“Maybe we should get it out of our system?” Regina asks. It’s not what she wants, but she needs to get used to this. Has to get used to him with other people, and soon. “And the apps make it easy, it seems.”

“You’re going to go Tinder?” he asks, and she can feel it, the bit of hurt, the discomfort. She should stop this, there’s going to be a fight…

But she can’t, she just has to keep poking. And she can feel it, the way part of her wants him to beg her not to, to fight for her or fight her, she doesn’t know. 

“I don’t know if I will use that app just yet,” she shrugs. “But maybe. Sometime after New Years. We could do it together? Get back out there at the same time?”

She braces for anger, for harsh words and accusatory tones, but Robin just takes a deep breath in and out. 

“So you’re really not even entertaining the idea of us?” he asks. “Even though we are both single, and—”

“And in different states,” she reminds. “And neither of us can move. If we started up things it would devastate the kids when we broke up. Imagine what Henry would think, Robin, if we dated.”

He winces and inhales. “Do you think he’d hate me if he found out?”

“No,” she chuckles. “He would _love_ it, I think. He would get so attached, and so quickly. And if we didn’t work out? If we had to break up after spending time together? It would crush him. I could never do that to him, Robin. I would never tell him we were dating. I couldn’t, not unless I knew we were staying together. It would break his heart.” 

“I would never hurt him,” Robin tells her, his voice wavering.

“Neither would I,” she promises. “I know neither of us would want our sons as collateral damage in our fight. But after Thanksgiving, I spent a week not calling Roland. And he said he missed me, didn’t he?”

Robin nods.

“I don’t want anything with us ruin what we have right now,” she tells him. “We have children to worry about. And they are the most important.

“I agree with you on that. The children always come first,” Robin nods, though he sounds like he’s swallowing more opinions. 

So…” she shrugs. “We should move on, shouldn’t we? And the best way for me to move on is to sleep with someone else. So I will.”

She waits for the reaction she knows she’s going to cause, she’s egging him on (has no idea why she is, she can’t stop, she’s so damn hurt over not being able to be with him, and it’s all pain and she’s taking this out on the wrong person, perhaps.)

“Regina,” he asks, his voice soft, sweet, a bit sad.

She looks at him — really looks at him, and his eyes are so expressive. He’s so beautiful, even beautiful when he’s miserable, which he appears to be now.

“Yes?” she answers, her voice wavering, that voice inside her telling her to push and poke is silent now, another voice chides her for indulging it for so long.

“Are you trying to hurt me?” he asks, not accusatory or angry, just an honest question.

“No,” she scowls, but guilt washes over her. “I’m just… I’m trying to…”

“I am sorry. Let me try this a different way, one that doesn’t assume you understand how this makes me feel. Regina, I love you.”

“I know,” she whispers.

“I desperately want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Oh god. It knocks the breath out of her.

“Robin, I can’t—”

“That’s what I mean, that’s where I’m going with this. I can’t. I can’t hear about you sleeping with someone else or going on dating apps or… any of that, Regina. I just can’t.”

“I…” she bites her lip and tries to think of what to say. “I’m sorry,” she settles on.

“It’s okay. I’m going to try to be okay with it, but right now, maybe for the foreseeable future, I can’t be the one you talk to about men you’re going to sleep with or date or… I can’t, Regina. My son’s mother just left us. Not just me, but him, too. And you’re… you’re wonderful. With both of us. And I have to let you go, you’ve made that clear. But I really am not ready to do that, not just yet.”

She takes a breath and holds back tears. “I’m not ready either,” she admits.

Robin raises an eyebrow.

“I want to be ready, and I want it not to hurt me. But it does,” Robin doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t ask the obvious question of why she is fighting this — and she likes that, likes his restraint, but it only makes her grow more guilty and a bit more introspective. “I just… have this horrible worry that I’m in this alone, that it doesn’t bother you. And I just really don’t want to be feeling this all alone, but more than that, I don’t want you to feel bad for me for feeling it alone.”

“You aren’t feeling it alone,” he chuckles dryly. “I can assure you of that.”

“It’s not fair of me. I should be hoping that you are completely over me,” she admits. “But… I’m not there yet, either. Too selfish.”

“It’s not selfish,” Robin tells her, god he’s a good man, because he’s lying for her benefit. “It’s human. I don’t want to see you being over me, either.”

“Well it’s been years,” Regina reminds with a roll of her eyes. “And it hasn’t happened yet. I’m going to assume it won’t.”

He chuckles. “You know, I didn’t fully realize that you never got over me all those years. Not until now.”

“You knew,” she reminds. “You had to know, after the rainstorm.”

“I thought maybe I had rekindled something,” he tells her, his lips quirking upwards as if he can feel how ridiculous that is.

“No, it was an intense, long burn. That flame never came close to dying,” she verifies, her embarrassment and fear over admitting this very personal, sensitive fact she’s tried so hard to keep to herself has all but disappeared. It’s actually a relief, being this honest. 

“Well, you know I feel the same,” he shrugs.

“Then why did you marry her?” the words tumble out, the old pain revives when she thinks of the day he told her he proposed. She had no right to that pain and anger, she doesn’t, but it surfaces. 

“She was pregnant, Regina,” Robin sighs. “And I did really care for her, I wanted to be a family with her. I didn’t think you loved me that way, you made it so clear that you felt otherwise that I didn’t think I was necessarily losing anything. I love her, she made me happy for a time, but she didn’t replace you. No one ever has or ever will.”

“Robin,” she says in a warning tone. “You can’t say those things.”

“Why? I won’t, if it upsets you.”

“Because…” she sighs, thoroughly unsure of why she can’t hear them. “Because it’s sad. Because we can’t be together. I can’t lose your friendship. And we can’t just try to casually date and see how it works out when it’s long distance. And if I have to move to you, I’ll just end up resenting you, and trying to pick a fight at any turn. I know myself... And you’ll do the same if you move to me. So we are stuck. We get to be friends, Robin. No matter how much we may want more.”

He sighs and scratches his head, adjusts the hand holding his phone a bit as he hits the pillow of his bed.

“I don’t believe that is our story,” he says wistfully. “But I’ll accept it. If that’s what you want.”

It’s not what she wants, not by a long shot. But it’s what needs to happen.

She can’t fight with him while they are states apart. It’s too dangerous, they could have so easily fallen into nothing after Thanksgiving. She’s not willing to risk that again.

Still, it feels like a lie when she nods and says, “That’s what I want.”

And watching the pain spread in his face, the hurt she caused spreading and blooming under the thin veneer of his attempted smile, well, that’s just another stab to the gut.


End file.
